Where Angels Fear to Tread
by Philip S
Summary: Buffy has the hots for her new psychology professor, a handsome man named Angel. Only Angel has a lot of secrets around, secrets regarding a dead Slayer called Elia, the ancient vampire Darla, and the demonic killing machine known as the Butcher Knight.
1. Part 1: Angel

Where Angels Fear to Tread  
  
by Philip S.  
  
SPOILERS & SUMMARY: AU. Buffy is in her first year at College. She and Angel have never met. Everything from Season 1 to 3 that did not involve Angel directly (Master, Spike & Dru, Faith, Ascension) took place.  
  
RATING: PG-13  
  
DISCLAIMER: Buffy and Angel belong to Joss. I'm fooling around with the characters and the story without ever going to make money from it. Too bad.  
  
FEEDBACK: Mucho!  
  
###  
  
  
  
"I heard we have a new psychology professor."  
  
Buffy barely listened to Willow, too occupied with her own thoughts. God, how could she ever have fallen for a guy like Parker? Her record with boyfriends wasn't all that good, but a slimy bastard like him ...  
  
"Did you hear me?" Willow asked.  
  
"What? Sorry, I was ..."  
  
"Brooding about a certain bastard we know?"  
  
"That's about it, yes."  
  
"You know he is not worth brooding about, don't you?"  
  
"Yes, I know. It's just that ... Willow, why can't I ever meet a guy that does not suck? I mean, Scott, Parker, David, Riley, they all seemed so nice at the start. Am I a poor judge of character?"  
  
The two girls walked on until they reached the class room and sat down. Their old psych prof was dead. Twice dead in fact, as Buffy had put a stake through her heart a few nights ago. She had wanted to do that since the evil bitch monster had given her an F for her last paper. Okay, she hadn't wanted to see her dead in quite that way, but ...  
  
"There he is, look," Willow whispered.  
  
Buffy forgot all about Parker, her dead professor, and just about everything else for that matter. Her eyes were glued to the man walking into their class room right at this moment. He walked across the floor, taking of his black leather jacket in the process, and sat down at the edge of the desk.  
  
God, was he a hunk, Buffy thought.  
  
She let her eyes wander over his body, tight black jeans and sweater showing off his trim figure, then took in his face. He had wonderful dark eyes and spiky hair. She wanted to run her hands through it, down that chest and below the sweater.  
  
"Good morning," he said. She loved his voice. "My name is Angel Fitzpatrick and I'm your new psychology professor as of right now. Any jokes about my first name will get you an immediate 'F', unless it's one I haven't heard before."  
  
He smiled while he said it and most students laughed. He continued talking, but Buffy found she had trouble concentrating on the words, she just listened to the sound of his voice. Never before had a man caught her like this. She had to restrain herself from bouncing down the steps right at this moment.  
  
"Think he is married?" she asked Willow, unable to tear her eyes away.  
  
"I don't see a ring." Willow smiled. One didn't need to be a witch to see what was going on inside her best friend right at this moment.  
  
Buffy's heart leaped. Then she chided herself. What was she thinking? This guy was her professor. She knew for a fact that relationships between professors and students were strictly forbidden. Why did she have such a hard time caring?  
  
"You're starting to drool," Willow remarked.  
  
Buffy's hand flew to her mouth, her cheeks flushing a bright red. God, had anyone noticed? Her eyes couldn't turn away from him. Angel, he said his name was. Angel Fitzpatrick. Had he seen her staring at him?  
  
He looked her way and she felt like drowning in those dark eyes. It seemed to her that his gaze rested on her for half an eternity, but it couldn't have been for more than a few seconds. He continued talking, making eye contact here and there, seeming unaware of her stares.  
  
"God, Willow! Look at that guy," she whispered.  
  
"Good looking, I have to admit."  
  
Buffy smiled. Willow liked to check out the guys, but she was up on cloud nine with Oz. Which left the road free for ... for what? He was her professor, she reminded herself once again. With a sigh she slouched back in her chair, wondering how she was supposed to improve her marks here when she had such a hard time concentrating.  
  
#  
  
Angel walked home after his last class ended, having enjoyed himself. He loved teaching and Sunnydale was a nice town. Nice and quiet. He needed that right now. After all that had happened he wouldn't be disappointed if this place turned out to be the dullest place in the world. That was what he needed right now.  
  
The apartment he had rented was on the small side, only until he found something better. He did plan to stay for the long haul. Of course he had planned the same in the last three towns he had lived in. It never worked out. Maybe this time.  
  
Maybe this time he would finally remain free.  
  
He didn't notice the dark figure that followed him. Didn't see crimson lips curve into a smile as amber eyes glowed in the darkness.  
  
#  
  
A few weeks later Buffy had a very strange dream. At first she had dreamed silly stuff, like opening a coffee shop with Giles somewhere in Kansas with Drusilla as the waitress. She often dreamed stuff like that, it was the only way to stay sane with all the things going on in her life.  
  
Then the dream changed and she found herself standing in an old mansion in front of a burning fire place. She found herself wearing a long, white nightgown, her hair hanging loosely down her back. The room was cold, a bitter cold that seeped right into her bones. She shivered, wrapping her arms around herself.  
  
There was a man sitting in a large leather chair in front of the fire, reading a leather-bound book. She could just make out some of the words on the page that he had open. Blood red letters depicted the words "Butcher Knight". Below it there were four lines in smaller print, too small to read.  
  
A large sword was leaning against the chair beside him, the blade gleaming as the light of the flames played across it.  
  
The man looked up, his gaze falling on her, and she froze. A Vampire. Or was he? Somehow she wasn't quite sure. Amber demon eyes glowed as he studied her.  
  
"So you are the Slayer that has been giving us so much trouble." He smirked at her and rose off the chair. He wore tight leather pants and a black shirt fluttered loosely around his chest, unbuttoned. Buffy tried to step back, but her feet wouldn't move.  
  
"Must be something special if they sent me," he said as he closed the distance, rubbing his cheek along her hair like a cat. A purring sound came from his throat and Buffy found herself unable to so much as breathe.  
  
"We'll meet soon," he whispered, his fingers brushing along her cheekbones. Then his fangs sank into her neck and Buffy screamed.  
  
"Buffy! Wake up!"  
  
She opened her eyes and found Willow leaning over her bed, studying her with worry in her eyes.  
  
"Are you all right? You screamed like ... like ... I can't think of something gruesome enough right now, but you screamed like that."  
  
Buffy found that she was panting heavily, her entire body stained with sweat.  
  
"Just a dream," she muttered, "just a weird dream."  
  
Or so she hoped.  
  
###  
  
"Butcher Knight," Giles said, his voice trailing off. Buffy knew that look on his face. Any moment now he would start searching for a book and wouldn't rest until he found it. Then he would open a certain page and say something along the lines of "Here it is!" or "Aha!".  
  
She exchanged a glance with Willow and the redhead whispered "Five minutes or less". Buffy frowned, then whispered back, "three minutes. Tops"  
  
"You're on," Willow said, looking at her watch.  
  
Two minutes and twenty-six seconds later Giles came back with an open book in hand.  
  
"Here it is," he announced. Buffy grinned at Willow, who scowled and handed her five dollars. Giles didn't notice and set down the book on the table in front of them.  
  
"The Butcher Knight. According to lore he is a warrior of darkness, created sometime in the middle ages."  
  
"Created what for?" Xander asked, upset that he hadn't participated in the bet.  
  
"Apparently the Butcher Knight was created as ... as a countermeasure to the Slayer."  
  
"A countermeasure?" Buffy asked, not liking the sound of that.  
  
"Yes. During the middle ages there was a long succession of very powerful and long-lived Slayers, resulting in a severe decline of the Vampire population. The Butcher Knight was, ah, was created for the sole purpose of seeking out Slayers and eliminating them."  
  
Giles turned the book around and showed her a painting of a large, dark man in black knight's armor, sitting on a monstrous horse, wielding a heavy broadsword. There was no face to be seen beneath the black helmet, no way to know whether that was the guy she'd seen in her dreams. The sword looked vaguely like the one she had seen leaning against the chair in front of the fireplace, but she wasn't sure.  
  
"Okay, so if this guy is coming for me," Buffy said, trying to sound unworried, "what can I expect? What can he do?"  
  
Giles took back the book and scanned the pages.  
  
"There is a lot of contradiction here. Some legends say the Butcher Knight was a Vampire of exceptional strength, yet those same legends say that he also rode in daylight. Others state that he was a one-of-a-kind demon. Still others say he was a man who pledged his soul to evil and received tremendous power in return."  
  
Giles sighed.  
  
"There are not a whole lot of eyewitness accounts. The Butcher Knight would set out searching for the Slayer and, ah, slaughter everyone in his path. Entire villages were razed to the ground because the Slayer was suspected to be there."  
  
"Hence the 'butcher' part of the name?" Xander asked, trying to lighten up the mood a bit and not succeeding.  
  
"Giles, if this guy is such a bad ass and has it in for Slayers, how come you never told me about him? And anyway, I've been the Slayer for over three years now. Why didn't he seek me out before?"  
  
"The last recorded sighting of the Butcher Knight was over a thousand years ago, Buffy. While there have been some rumored sightings of him scattered throughout the last millennium, the, ah, general consensus is that he has been destroyed somewhere around the tenth century and is no longer to be considered a threat."  
  
"Like the Judge?" Xander asked. "Like Akathler? Like ..."  
  
"That's enough, Xander," Giles interrupted him. "Though you're right. If Buffy has had a prophetic dream about the Knight, there might be a chance he is still alive and on his way here. We will have to research and find out more about the Knight's capabilities. Buffy, we should probably intensify your training. Come by after patrol!"  
  
Buffy sighed. Being the Slayer never gave her a break. She had looked forward to go to a special lecture at college tonight. Not because she was anxious for more study time, but because of the man who would hold the lecture.  
  
She guessed she could write off catching another few looks at Angel tonight. Life sucked.  
  
#  
  
Angel walked onto the stage of the auditorium. A lot of students had come and he guessed that had more to do with the topic of the lecture than with their desire to learn. That was okay with him. Learning shouldn't be an end in itself, after all.  
  
He was amazed at how quickly he had come to fit in here. Being asked to hold this lecture had surprised him, as colleges tended to be touchy about stuff like this. Being told that he was already considered one of the most popular professors at SCU had made him blush.  
  
"Thank you all for coming tonight," he greeted them. "I am sure you're anxious to get started."  
  
He took the chalk from the desk and started writing on the blackboard.  
  
"As you know our topic today is," he completed the last of the three letters, "sex!"  
  
As expected he received numerous enthusiastic yells and some applause, as well as someone asking whether they could be given some practical demonstrations. Angel smiled.  
  
"I'm not gonna be starting with the bees and flowers here, as I can't seem to shake the suspicion that the largest number of you people already has seen some action in that field."  
  
Again he had to wait for the cheers to die down. He found himself smiling. What could be greater than teaching young people? He loved doing it.  
  
"We're here to talk about doing it the right way." More cheers. "Now don't get your hopes up! I'm not talking about the right positions here!" Some disappointed boos. "Just a note on the side, though, there is no such thing as a wrong position." More cheers.  
  
Angel continued to give a lecture about respecting the wishes of the partner, about the dangers of AIDS, about pregnancies and responsibilities, always making sure to keep the mood up while not making a joke out of a very serious topic.  
  
He knew that most of his colleagues were uneasy talking about said topic. Americans were such prudes, he thought. Besides, most of them didn't want to realize that these weren't children anymore, but young adults. He would be surprised if there was more than a handful among these students that had yet to lose their virginity.  
  
"Questions anyone?" he asked when he finished the lecture.  
  
"How many positions do you know?" Laughter sounded through the room.  
  
"Somewhere high up in the two-digit range," he answered with a straight face, earning a few shouts of disbelief. "More questions?"  
  
Most of the questions coming at him were jokes and inquiries into his own love life, but some students did have serious questions and he did his best to answer them. It was already late, but Angel didn't feel tired. He could have continued this for hours.  
  
He found he was a little bit disappointed not to see the petit blonde, who was always undressing him with her eyes in psych class. Her name was Buffy, if he remembered right. Beautiful girl. Angel, he told himself, you're a dirty old man.  
  
Suddenly he saw someone else standing at the door and his blood froze.  
  
"Professor?" a student had asked him a question, but he hadn't heard a thing.  
  
"Sorry," he began, barely able to get the words out. "I just remembered I've got to get going."  
  
He grabbed his jacket and hurried on out, ignoring the questioning looks of his students. He needed to get out. Get away. His car stood outside. Maybe if he just hopped in and drove right out of town, then ...  
  
A woman was leaning against the side of his black convertible, looking his way. Her eyes bored directly into him and the chill of resignation filled him. Why did he always believe he could get away? She always found him sooner or later. Always.  
  
He walked toward her, trying to keep a neutral face.  
  
"Hello, Angel," she greeted him. "You weren't trying to hide from me again, were you?"  
  
She caressed his chest with her hand, pulling him in closer.  
  
"Hello, Darla," he said, not resisting. It was pointless anyway.  
  
###  
  
Buffy had hurried through both patrol and training and was now running towards the campus grounds, hoping to at least catch a little bit of the lecture. She didn't know why she was putting herself through this. It wasn't like there was a chance Angel would ever ...  
  
She skidded to a stop outside the auditorium as she saw the object of her thoughts standing in front of his car ... talking to a woman? What was he doing talking to another ... she shook her head. Buffy, you're behaving like a school girl.  
  
She couldn't help but watch, though. The woman, who just had to be very beautiful, of course, seemed pretty casual around Angel. She ... she was stroking him. One of her hands was on his chest. Buffy turned away, she *so* didn't need to see this. Angel just stood there, seeming neither to encourage nor to rebuke her. She couldn't see his face.  
  
Something about that woman was giving Buffy the creeps. Maybe it was just jealousy. Come to think of it, it probably was jealousy. Still, there was something about her ... Buffy crouched down in the bushes and continued to watch.  
  
Maybe she should go a little closer. She couldn't quite hear them from here.  
  
#  
  
"I see you haven't forgotten me," Darla said.  
  
"It was not for lack of trying."  
  
"Now you're trying to hurt my feelings," she pouted mockingly.  
  
Angel wanted to run. Run as far as his feet would take him and then continue to crawl on his hands and knees. He knew it wouldn't avail him anything. She always found him.  
  
"I'm so glad to see you here," Darla said. "I was afraid I would have to search half the world for you, just like last time. Imagine my surprise when I found out that you were here already."  
  
"Here?" Angel asked, not understanding.  
  
"Of course here, where else?"  
  
Angel looked around. Perfectly normal American town. Okay, he had noticed it had its share of creepers running around after dark, but what could Darla possibly ... no! Anything but that!  
  
"I see you know." Darla smiled, content.  
  
"I will not do this! Never again!"  
  
She leaned back against the hood of his car, crossing her arms.  
  
"Oh, Angel! Are you still not over fooling yourself? You know, I've been here for a few weeks now, watching you. Nice little setup you have here. College professor in suburban America, lots of little students looking up to you, probably looking for nice girlfriend somewhere down the line."  
  
She stood up again to drape her arms around his neck, leaning in closely.  
  
"Haven't you learned after all this time? It never works!"  
  
A tremble went through Angel's body. Was she telling the truth? He had tried so often, in so many different places. It had never worked. Not once. Yet what else could he do?  
  
"Be that as it may," he said, his voice almost steady, "but that doesn't mean I will do your dirty work again. I'm through. It's over!"  
  
"Is it?"  
  
She shifted into her demon face, amber eyes staring at him. Her lips spread into a smile, showing her gleaming fangs.  
  
"I think I know a few words that will make you rethink things."  
  
"Don't do this, Darla," Angel whispered.  
  
She smiled broader, enjoying the terror she could feel welling up inside him.  
  
"Please don't," he pleaded with her. "Don't you remember what happened last ..."  
  
"By Bond of Blood I call the Might," she began.  
  
Angel turned away from her to start running, even though he knew it was too late. Darla made no attempt to follow him, but her voice rang in his ears, even as he could feel his innards start to come apart, his lungs refusing to draw in the air.  
  
"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light"  
  
He stumbled, pain lancing through his body. He could feel the buildup of power around him, the air was thick with it. No, it mustn't happen! He wouldn't allow it! He needed to do something! Anything!  
  
Suddenly there was a loud thump and Darla's next words turned into a yelp or surprise. The magic around him evaporated, Angel could breathe again. He came to a stop, looking around to see what could have made her stop the incantation. He was more than a little surprised to see a blonde woman straddling Darla's prone body, raining blows down on her.  
  
He was even more surprised when he found that he knew her.  
  
"Buffy?"  
  
She looked up at him and he was sure. That was the little blonde from his psychology class. What was she doing here? Why was she ...? Oh, no!  
  
#  
  
Buffy looked up, seeing Angel looking at her. Before she had time to make sense of the strange look upon his face the Vampire she held down became active again. A fist impacted against her chin and lifted her into the air.  
  
"Well, what have we here!" The Vampire got back to her feet the same time Buffy flipped back up and fell into a fighting stance. She drew a stake from her jacket.  
  
"I got something here, all right," she said, focusing on the Vampire.  
  
Amber demon eyes just looked past her at Angel and fangs flashed as lips curved into a smile.  
  
"She's cuter than the last one, isn't she, Angel?"  
  
Buffy resisted the impulse to turn around and look at Angel.  
  
"Can we fight now?" she asked the Vampire mockingly. "I need my beauty sleep."  
  
She just laughed and then turned to run away. Buffy was so surprised that she didn't make a move to follow her.  
  
"I'll leave her to you, Angel," the Vampire yelled over her shoulder, then disappeared.  
  
Buffy was confused, turning around to face Angel. What had she meant with that last one? Angel stood some meters away from her, his eyes glued to her. She had wanted to be the object of his attention for some time now, only she hadn't really wanted him to look terrified at that moment.  
  
"Are you all right?" she asked him. "Look, this might seem pretty strange to you, but ..."  
  
"You're the Slayer!"  
  
Now she was dumbfounded. He knew? For a moment a terrible suspicion crept in to her mind. The Vampire hadn't bitten him, even when she had the chance. She had said she'd leave Buffy to him. Could he be ...?  
  
No, she shook her head. She had seen him in daylight. They had shaken hands one time after class and she had felt the warmth of his skin, the blood pumping beneath it. He was no Vampire.  
  
"How do you ...?" she began, moving toward him.  
  
Angel flinched back from her, pure fear in his eyes, sweat glistening on his forehead.  
  
"Stay away from me," he whispered.  
  
"What? Angel ... Professor Fitzpatrick, it's me! Buffy Summers! I'm in your psych class! I won't hurt ..."  
  
"Stay away," he screamed and started running toward his car. She could only look after him as he jumped in and hit the pedal for all it was worth. The black convertible jumped onto the street and vanished.  
  
"Was it something I said?" Buffy wondered.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	2. Part 2: Darla

Part 2:  
  
#  
  
" ... and then he just ran away like I was the devil or something. A girl could really get insecure here."  
  
Giles nodded, going through Buffy's report in his mind once more.  
  
"And the name of the Vampire was Darla, correct?" he asked.  
  
"I think so. That's what he called her. How come he knows a Vampire by name anyway?"  
  
"Maybe ... maybe he knew her before she became a Vampire?" Willow offered, looking up from her notebook.  
  
"Unlikely," Giles said, reaching for a book he had handy, starting to flip through the pages. "Unless I am mistaken this Darla is ... ah, here she is."  
  
He put the book on the table and Buffy saw a painting of the woman she had seen earlier. The painting showed her with longer hair and she wore a dress, but it was her. No doubt about it.  
  
"I bet this dress works like a wonder bra," Buffy remarked.  
  
"Does a good job if that's so," Xander added.  
  
Darla," Giles said, ignoring the comments, "is one of the most infamous Vampires in history. She is also at least a thousand years old. Sired by none other than the Master."  
  
"The Master?" Buffy asked. "Well, seeing as I dusted him two years ago she can't be all that tough."  
  
"The Master was the most powerful Vampire in creation, Buffy," Giles reminded her. "You were able to kill him because he was still chained to the Hellmouth when you fought and still he almost killed you."  
  
Buffy remembered that fight. The Anointed One had lead her down into the Master's lair. If Giles hadn't figured out that the old Vampire would be unable to cross the boundaries of the Hellmouth unless he fed on Slayer's blood ... she didn't want to think about it.  
  
"Okay, so she's probably a bad ass. That still doesn't explain what she has to do with Angel, ah, I mean Professor Fitzpatrick."  
  
"From what you told us the two seemed quite, ah, intimate with one another. He knew her name and she didn't bite him when she had the chance."  
  
Buffy didn't like the word 'intimate' in this particular instance, but she tried to concentrate on the important stuff.  
  
"There was something else," she said. "Just after she vamped out on him. He didn't look afraid when she went all demony, but then she started saying something that sent him running. Sounded like some kind of rhyme."  
  
"A rhyme?" Willow asked. "Maybe ... maybe some kind of spell?"  
  
"Yes, and when she started he seemed to be in pain."  
  
"Can you remember the words?" Giles asked.  
  
"I ... I'm not sure. Something about bonds of blood and hellfire, I don't remember every word. I don't think she got to finish it. I ... I sort of attacked her somewhere in the middle of it."  
  
"Bonds of blood ...," Giles muttered. "There is a possibility. Powerful Vampires have been known to, ah, to use living humans as slaves, use them for daylight work. They feed them their blood, but not enough to initiate the change."  
  
"You mean like that guy in the Dracula movie?" Xander asked. "Renfield?"  
  
"Yes, close to that. A Master Vampire's blood is highly addictive. Unless the human has a very strong will he will do anything to, ah, to get another fix."  
  
Buffy leant back on the couch, trying to wrap her mind around it. Could it be? Angel a slave to this vampire bitch?  
  
"No, I can't imagine that. He was resisting her. He tried to get away. And if he were bonded to her by her blood, why would she need to recite some kinda spell?"  
  
Giles nodded.  
  
"Granted, it doesn't sound like it adds up. First order of business should be to have a long chat with Mr. Fitzpatrick. If we can find him."  
  
"I got his address," Willow said. Buffy moved over to where the redhead worked on her notebook.  
  
"I hacked into the university records. Angel Fitzpatrick, born in 1969 in Boston, made his degree in psychology at the university of Michigan, moved to Sunnydale two months ago. And here is the address."  
  
"You're great, Willow!"  
  
Buffy was halfway to the door when Giles held her back.  
  
"You shouldn't go alone, Buffy! The last time he saw you he ran for his life. It might be better if, ah, the rest of us were there as well."  
  
Buffy sighed. The thought that Angel was terrified of her made her cringe inside.  
  
"Okay, you guys come along! But let's hurry! He didn't look like he planned to stay in one place for too long."  
  
#  
  
Buffy broke open the door when knocking didn't work. Angel's apartment was on the small side and looked like it had been left in a hurry. Several books were strewn on the ground, a few shirts still hung in the open closet.  
  
"Guy didn't waste a lot of time packing," Xander said.  
  
"Scared people tend to run fast."  
  
Buffy looked around the room, trying to get a sense of the man she'd lusted after these past few weeks. She felt like she knew him, which was an illusion of course. Except in class they'd never so much as exchanged a word.  
  
Still, she had never felt this way for anyone before. It had to be more than his really good looks. Maybe it had been the way he'd looked at her just hours ago. Never before had she seen a man so filled with terror. She wanted to make the fear in his eyes go away.  
  
"He is not here," Giles said, coming over from the other room. "And it does not look like he will be coming back anytime soon."  
  
"Hey, look at this," Willow called from the bed.  
  
She was lifting a long, wrapped bundle out from under the bed. Judging by the look on her face it was pretty heavy. Buffy walked over to take it from her hands. It *was* pretty heavy and something about it was giving her the creeps. She undid the wrapping.  
  
"Isn't that ...," Willow began.  
  
Giles came over to take a closer look. He took off his glasses, sighing.  
  
"Yes, I'm afraid this ... this looks exactly like the painting we saw."  
  
Buffy held a gleaming sword, nearly twice the length of her arm. The blade was polished to a shine, giving her a warped reflection of her own face. Buffy imagined she could feel cold seeping into her hands from where she held it. There was a blood-red ruby embedded into the handguard and it seemed to twinkle at her menacingly.  
  
"The sword of the Butcher Knight." Giles muttered.  
  
Buffy felt cold.  
  
###  
  
Angel drove through the dark, never paying attention to the speed limit. The sign that said he was leaving Sunnydale vanished into the night behind him. Stupid! Shouldn't have stopped by his apartment before he left. Waste of time. Nothing there that was worth taking with him anyway.  
  
His foot had never left the pedal but still it felt like a crawl to him. He had to get out. Get as far away from here as he could before it was too late. Sometimes he had managed to stay ahead of Darla for several years before she found him. If he just went far enough away from here, far enough away from the Slayer ...  
  
There was a thumb behind him, the car bucking under him as if he'd driven over a hole. He looked into the rear view mirror and saw nothing.  
  
"Nice idea! Now we can have some privacy."  
  
He swiveled around and saw Darla sitting in the back-seat.  
  
"Where were we?" she asked him, smiling.  
  
He hit the break for all it was worth, the tires screeching across the concrete, the seat belt biting into his flesh. Darla was thrown forward and went right through the wind shield.  
  
It took Angel a few moments to recover. He would probably be bruised from the seat belt tomorrow, but if that was the only price to pay, he would do so gladly. He looked up through the shattered wind shield and saw Darla rising to her feet in front of the car.  
  
"Now that wasn't very nice," she chided him, holding her side.  
  
Angel stepped on it and the car roared forward again. He knew he couldn't kill her this way, but if he just managed to slow her down long enough ...  
  
Darla leapt up before the car could hit her and grabbed him while in midair. The seat belt nearly cut him in half as she swung back into the back-seat of the car. Next thing he knew her arm snaked around his neck from behind. Desperate, he threw the car into a tailspin, but Darla held on.  
  
"Now that we will not be disturbed again ...," she whispered into his ears.  
  
Angel tried everything to shake her off, but she didn't even budge. His eyes found the tree line on the side of the road and he turned the car toward it.  
  
"By Bond of Blood I call the Might," Darla began.  
  
The trees loomed closer, the car screeching toward them, still accelerating.  
  
"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light"  
  
Angel closed his eyes as the car jumped off the street and skidded toward the edge of the forest.  
  
"I Curse Your Soul with Satan's Bite"  
  
The sound of the crash cut through the silence of the night.  
  
#  
  
Buffy knew she was dreaming. She knew that she had finally gone to sleep after searching for Angel had turned out to be fruitless. She had been tired and wouldn't be much use to anyone until tomorrow, so she had slouched down on Giles' couch while the others tried to find out more about Angel and the Butcher Knight.  
  
She knew she was dreaming. It didn't help much.  
  
There was screaming all around her. She could see people running, running like the devil himself was chasing them. They were dressed mostly in robes and primitive homemade clothing. The town Buffy found herself in looked like something out of the middle ages. No, that wasn't exactly right, because at this moment it looked like a loud corner of Hell.  
  
Several of the buildings were burning, smoke curling into the dark night sky. The stench of blood was thick in the air, almost enough to make her gag. People were yelling, shouting for everyone to get away. A little farther away she heard the screams of the dying.  
  
"Quickly! We have to get her out of here," someone yelled.  
  
Buffy found herself grabbed and saw two men with gray beards, wearing battered-looking suits of battle armor, who were quickly herding her toward a waiting carriage. Only now did she become aware that she herself was dressed to fit the scenery. Silver armor, fitted to her slim figure, stained with soothe and blood.  
  
"What is going on here?" she yelled at the men.  
  
"Chosen One, we need to get you to safety," one of them said.  
  
The screams seemed to be coming closer.  
  
"He is almost here!"  
  
They ran past a hut and moments later the wall of it blew outwards. Buffy had an image of something huge and black rushing past her, a flash of silver in the air. Something wet touched her face and the man to her left suddenly let go of her arm.  
  
A headless body fell to the ground. She could see the head roll away down the street.  
  
Shuffling hooves, the heavy panting of a huge horse. She turned around and saw him.  
  
"Slayer," the Butcher Knight growled.  
  
He sat high on a giant black horse. His body was covered in black battle armor, the light of nearby fires playing across the obsidian surface. His armored fist held a heavy broadsword, the blade stained with blood. Splatters of blood also covered large parts of the armor and the flanks of the horse.  
  
His face was hidden behind a black helmet. She imagined she could see two eyes somewhere inside it, burning a demon amber.  
  
"Run, Chosen One," the other bearded man said. "I will delay him as long as I can."  
  
The Knight laughed and the horse started toward them again. Her bearded protector raised a sword to meet the onslaught. It didn't even take a second. The huge broadsword flashed through the air, cutting clean through steel and flesh, black armor glistening as more blood was added to the existing stains.  
  
Buffy was frozen. She couldn't move a muscle, she could only stare at this nightmare creature that was now slowly coming toward her. She finally noticed that her right hand was clutching a battle ax, one that had seen use today it seemed, but she didn't find the strength to raise it.  
  
The Butcher Knight climbed off his horse and came toward her, towering over her by at least two feet. Now she was sure, two amber demon eyes were looking at her from somewhere inside that black helmet.  
  
"And so another Chosen One dies," he growled, raising his sword.  
  
From the corner of her eyes Buffy saw two figures coming around the corner of a nearby hut, fighting against each other. The Vampire known as Darla stood there, wearing black battle armor as well, a sword in hand, and smiled broadly, half her face smeared with blood.  
  
The figure fighting her looked like a fairy tale knight. Silver armor, long hair, fighting against the Vampire with sword and battle ax. She could see his face, his eyes focused on the enemy in front of him. Swords clashed, sparks flew. She knew that man.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
He looked at her for a second, his eyes widening in terror.  
  
"Elia," he screamed, pushing Darla away and starting toward her.  
  
The Butcher Knight's sword arced down.  
  
Buffy woke with a start, her body covered with sweat.  
  
"Angel?" she whispered. There was no answer except the concerned glances of her friends.  
  
###  
  
"It will not be easy, Buffy," Giles said. "According to the records of the Council the Butcher Knight killed at least a dozen Slayers, maybe more."  
  
"Just do your best, Giles!"  
  
Buffy sat down on the couch, trying to think. Willow slouched down beside her, looking worried.  
  
"So if Buffy's dream is right and Angel is not the Butcher Knight," Willow asked, "then why was the Knight's sword in Angel's apartment?"  
  
"Much more interesting would be the question how Mr. Fitzpatrick can still be alive if he was, in fact, a knight in the middle ages."  
  
Buffy closed her eyes. Angel, a knight. Somehow the image fit. A knight in shining armor trying to save the damsel in distress. Okay, said damsel had obviously been a Slayer, which would preclude her needing much rescuing, but still ...  
  
"And you wore battle armor, Buffy?" Xander asked. "Women's armor, I mean? Molded to your ... you know?"  
  
"Off topic, Xander," Willow remarked.  
  
"During the middle ages it was quite customary for warriors to wear armor," Giles started to lecture, "though only a few Slayers ever did. Women who were seen wearing armor and weapons might have ... upset the more delicate sensibilities of that time."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"He means girls trying to play with the toys of the boys got burned at the stake."  
  
"Oh!"  
  
Giles was rummaging through books again and Buffy found herself with nothing to do except more of the same. She wished she knew where Angel had gone to. From the looks of things he had left town in a hurry. If he was gone, though, why did she still have these warning dreams about him and the Butcher Knight?  
  
She just hoped he was okay.  
  
#  
  
Angel regained consciousness and immediately became aware of the pain in his chest. Something wet was trickling across his face. He tried to open his eyes and succeeded somewhere around the fifth or sixth try.  
  
He was still sitting in his car, only there was not a whole lot left of it. Most of the hood was gone, wrapped around a large tree. It was hard to figure out which parts of his car the warped metal around him might have been before the crash.  
  
Angel hung in the seat belt, sure that it had broken at least several of his ribs. The steering wheel was pressing hard into his chest and he was unable to move his arms. He didn't want to think about how much of his legs might be left, he couldn't see any trace of them right now.  
  
It was still dark, so he couldn't have been gone too long. Once the sun rose he would be safe. Safe from her. Then he could see about getting out of here and ...  
  
"You look stuck."  
  
Darla walked up to the car. Her clothing was in tatters, but her skin unmarked. She smiled at him.  
  
"Sorry that I had to leave you for a while, but I needed a snack to get back in shape. Thankfully there was a truck driver up there, looking to see if he could be of help. I think the Americans' sense of helpfullness is highly underrated."  
  
Angel tried to get out of the car, tried to do anything, but he was stuck. Every little movement hurt him.  
  
"You gave me a good chase, Angel," Darla said, "but now it's over. Take it like a man, okay?"  
  
"Never," he managed to growl at her.  
  
"You don't exactly have a choice right now!"  
  
She knelt down beside him, looking over his body.  
  
"Look at you. All cut up and crushed. It won't kill you, of course, but how long do you think it will take until you can heal all that? Weeks? Months?"  
  
She pressed a kiss to his cheek and he could do nothing. One of her hands cupped his chin and forced his neck around until she looked into his eyes.  
  
"I'm getting tired of the chase, lover. There is a Slayer in this town, who has been all too much trouble to us. It's time to deal with her."  
  
"No," he screamed.  
  
"Not your choice!"  
  
She slapped him hard and then sat down on the ruined hood of the car, looking at him.  
  
"By Bond of Blood I call the Might"  
  
The pain in his chest intensified, but it was no longer a result of the car crash. He could feel his blood beginning to boil as the magic gathered in the air around him.  
  
"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light"  
  
"Please, Darla! No!" He didn't care that he was begging. He would have kissed her feet if she would just stop this. She just smiled and continued.  
  
"I Curse Your Soul with Satan's Bite"  
  
He screamed as he felt the darkness pool inside him, liquid fire running through his veins. The wreckage of the car protested as his arms and legs came free, breaking the warped metal easily with a strength that was anything but human. Darla watched it all with pure rapture in her eyes and completed the incantation.  
  
"Arise Angelus, my Butcher Knight!"  
  
The forest fell silent as Angel's scream shut off abruptly.  
  
#  
  
"Uh, guys?" Willow startled everyone, rousing them from their research work.  
  
"Willow, what is ..." Giles looked up, his eyes following Willow's pointed finger.  
  
Buffy had almost fallen asleep again, now she was wide awake. They had taken the sword of the Butcher Knight from Angel's apartment and brought it here. Now there was an eerie light playing around the blade, energy sparkled from it like a halo.  
  
A moment later the sword was gone without a trace.  
  
"This is not good, right?" Xander asked.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	3. Part 3: Angelus

Where Angels Fear to Tread - Part 3  
  
###  
  
Buffy was feeling extremely worried. They didn't know much more than before, but there was little doubt that the disappearance of the Butcher Knight's sword was not a good sign. They had to find Angel, he was the only one who could presumably tell him what was going on here.  
  
Giles and Willow were going to contact the Council for more information on the Butcher Knight, hoping that some records existed somewhere in a dusty cellar or something. Xander was going to visit Willy the Snitch, prepared to dish out some money in order to get some information about Darla and where she might be hiding.  
  
Buffy was patrolling, hoping against hope to find a trace of Angel.  
  
Or the Butcher Knight.  
  
She carried more than her usual arsenal of weapons. A stake would be of little use against a guy wearing armor and wielding a sword. Giles had given her a sword from his weapons' chest, along with some knives and a small ax.  
  
Times like these, she wished for a gun.  
  
For the past few minutes she had felt uneasy, as if someone was following her. It was a bit like the tingle she always got when there were Vampires close by, but not the same. It was much stronger, like a little demon in the back of her head, using barbed drumsticks on her brain.  
  
She was passing through an alley close to the Bronze when she finally felt certain. There was someone close by. Someone who, all of a sudden, didn't seem to care anymore whether she knew of his presence or not. Steps came closer through the darkness and Buffy tensed, eyes trying to penetrate the darkness.  
  
A huge shadow separated from the walls and became a solid figure that was slowly walking toward her. A man, six feet eight or more by the looks of him, dressed in black. She could not see his face yet, but there was little doubt in her mind. She had seen this man in her dreams. Amber demon eyes glowed in the dark.  
  
"Sorry it took me so long," he said, coming closer, "but traffic was murder."  
  
She could see him better now. He wore black leather pants and a black, unbuttoned shirt. His chest was gleaming marble beneath it, looking very inviting to a girl without a boyfriend. What few notions she might have had were quickly banished, though. She could see the sword strapped to his back.  
  
His face came into the light of the street lamps and she gasped. She had seen his face in her dream, yet had not really seen it. The only thing she had remembered where the demon eyes. Now she saw the whole thing.  
  
#  
  
"Yes, thank you." Giles put down the receiver.  
  
"Anything?" Willow asked.  
  
"A bit, at least. It seems that the Butcher Knight did make some scattered appearances in the last thousand years, though it seems he was quite different from before."  
  
"How so?"  
  
Giles sat down, rubbing his tired eyes.  
  
"The early accounts tell of the Butcher Knight just wading into towns, slaughtering everyone that crossed his path, until he found the Slayer. If no Slayer was to be found he just continued on. He seemed little more than a mindless engine of destruction."  
  
He took the notebook where he had written down what he had been told over the phone.  
  
"Somewhere around the turn of the millennium, though, something changed. The Butcher Knight stopped his senseless slaughter and vanished for a long time. His next recorded appearance does not happen until almost two centuries later. He presumably killed a Slayer in Italy and instead of just slaughtering whomever stood between her and him, he seemed to go at it with what the Watcher of that time called 'a streak of sadistic playfulness'. He killed only very few people and only those who were near and dear to the Slayer."  
  
Willow shivered, realizing who the people closest to the Slayer were this time around.  
  
"Any idea how this change came about?"  
  
Giles studied his notes and Willow could see the gleam of a thought beginning to appear in his eyes.  
  
"There is a possibility. Buffy said that this Vampire, Darla, she used some kind of incantation on Mr. Fitzpatrick."  
  
He suddenly rose, searching through his collection for another book.  
  
"The lore said that the Butcher Knight was like a Vampire, yet without the weaknesses. Maybe ... ah, here it is."  
  
He put the book down on the table and Willow looked at the page he had opened.  
  
"There is a species of demons called 'Etrigani'. Powerful warrior demons who can be summoned only by the most skilled of sorcerers. The Etrigani are little more than killing machines and nearly unstoppable."  
  
"Sounds like what we read about the Butcher Knight," Willow said, worried about Buffy.  
  
"Yes. What makes these Etrigani so interesting is they can either be bodily summoned to the Earth plane or they can be summoned to rise inside a mortal host, much like Vampires. I would suspect that, if the latter happens, the host's personality would, to a certain degree, influence the deeds of the Etrigani."  
  
"So you think," Willow said, understanding, "that this change in attitude happened because the Butcher Knight got a host or something? Like, he started out all 'ride on and slaughter everyone', but his host liked to do things with a little more, I don't know, sick sort of finesse?"  
  
Giles nodded.  
  
"It would also explain Buffy's dream. She saw Mr. Fitzpatrick and the Butcher Knight, two separate beings. Back then the Knight was still the demon incarnate, slaughtering people where they stood. But sometime soon after that the demon was bound to a mortal host."  
  
"And ... and you think that host, he is ..."  
  
#  
  
"Angel?" Buffy whispered.  
  
He looked like Angel, yet he did not. It was like someone had taken Angel's face and then remade it into something completely different. There were vampire ridges, yet they weren't as prominent as with most Vampires. The demon eyes seemed to glow brightly in the night. The fangs in his mouth glistened.  
  
"Close, but no cigar."  
  
He stopped several feet away from her, looking down. He was taller than Angel, that much was certain, much more muscular. His skin was not pale as that of most Vampires. He almost looked tanned, actually.  
  
"You're the Butcher Knight."  
  
"I never much liked that nickname," he said, "though it does fit. What can I say? Those were barbaric times back then. Demons were expected to ride through the night in black armor and slaughter everyone they met."  
  
He laughed and it sent a chill down her spine.  
  
"Times change," he continued. "These days I would look pretty ridiculous running through the streets in that outfit, don't you think? And I don't think there is a horse within a hundred miles of here. Too bad."  
  
He reached behind his back and slowly drew the sword from its sheath. The blade gleamed in the light of the street lamps.  
  
"Some things never change, though. Especially not the important ones."  
  
Buffy drew her own sword, trying to get a sense of her opponent. Angel? She wasn't sure. Whatever, he was a big fellow, outweighing her by at least a hundred pounds. He had nearly twice her reach, especially with that long sword, and he held the heavy blade like it weighed nothing.  
  
"Do you need a sword that long to cover for certain inadequacies?" Buffy taunted him, feeling the need to do something. She didn't think rushing him was a good idea. If he truly was over a thousand years old odds were he had a lot more experience in using that sword than she had.  
  
"Maybe I should show you my inadequacies somewhere between now and your ugly death, Chosen One. Would you like that? I think you would."  
  
He leaned in a bit closer, keeping the sword back.  
  
"I know how you always stared during the classes. I could feel the lust welling up inside you. Do you like it rough?"  
  
Without warning he started attacking. The blade arced through the air and she just managed to jump backwards. She didn't want to go blade to blade with him. Her own sword seemed small and fragile beside his.  
  
"This is going to be fun," the Knight said and attacked her again.  
  
###  
  
Buffy was fighting for her life.  
  
In her three years as the Slayer she had met several opponents she considered her match. Luke, the Master, Spike, Faith, but in the end she had beaten them all. Here, though, today, she was nowhere near so sure.  
  
The Butcher Knight did not seem to be in any kind of a hurry. He moved methodically, aiming to take her apart inch by inch. On the third strike she had been too slow and now her sword lay on the ground, shattered in two by the Knight's monstrous blade. She defended herself using battle axe and knife, but she didn't even manage to get inside the arc of that sword.  
  
She was bleeding from several small cuts on her shoulders and legs. Those could have been much deeper, she felt, but the Knight didn't seem interested in finishing her off all that quickly.  
  
She managed a surprise attack and the Knight took a step back, looking at the bloody gash on his chest.  
  
"You really are in love with this body, aren't you?" He smirked, pausing a moment to rip his shirt away. He stood, naked from the waist up, and Buffy watched as the gash healed in seconds.  
  
"Bruce Lee knew why he was always fighting shirtless," the Knight said. "Much better effect on the chicks."  
  
He was upon her again almost before she could react and her momentary lapse earned her a deep cut across her stomach, ripping her blouse apart. She took a moment to check the wound, found it wasn't deep, but soon blood loss would begin to be a problem. She was amazed at how calm she still felt. Things didn't look good after all.  
  
Suddenly the world around her shifted and her vision blurred. For a brief moment she was in another place. Stone walls, candlelight, a large bed with curtains around it. Someone came in through the door and she felt her lips stretch into a broad smile. A shimmer of knight's armor. Her husband.  
  
"Beloved, I missed you!"  
  
Next she knew she was evading another strike of the Knight, losing a few locks of hair in the process. She threw one of her remaining knives, more out of reflex than conscious thought, and the short blade glanced along the Knight's shoulder, leaving a shallow cut. A cut that healed in seconds.  
  
"Pay attention, will you?" The Knight complained.  
  
What had that been? She could still see afterimages burnt into her eyes. A bedroom. A man in shining knight's armor. A face. Angel? How was that possible?  
  
She stumbled backwards and only just managed to roll away before the sword struck the concrete floor where she had been only moments before. Laughter filled the air, but not the Knight's throaty roar. A woman's laughter, totally out of place in this dark alley. Buffy looked up and saw the Vampire called Darla sit on a fire escape not far away, watching the scene.  
  
"Kill her slowly, Angelus," she cheered. "Let her drown in her own fear!"  
  
"With pleasure," the Knight growled. Angelus? Was that his name?  
  
The Knight was beginning to herd her toward the dead end of the alley, but the appearance of Darla had given Buffy an idea. Maybe she couldn't hurt this creature, but she knew all about hurting Vampires. And maybe, if the Knight was on Darla's leash or something, ...  
  
When he struck again Buffy vaulted over him and hit the ground running.  
  
"No running away, Chosen One," he yelled after her, his running steps making the ground shake. "There is nowhere for you to hide."  
  
"And who's hiding?"  
  
She reached the bottom of the fire escape, jumped nearly ten feet straight up, and swung up to the level Darla was sitting on. The Vampire seemed completely surprised and had barely begun to move when Buffy's boot caught her in the face.  
  
Buffy felt the fire escape shake as the Knight began making his way up, moving his large body much faster than she would have thought possible. She drew a stake from her ruined jacket and straddled Darla's prone form.  
  
"Back off or she's dust," she yelled toward the Knight.  
  
He stopped, but a few steps away from them, sword already raised for the kill. Buffy kept the stake poised on the flesh above Darla's unbeating heart, the Vampire's eyes glancing up at her full of rage. Buffy was panting from exhaustion.  
  
"Drop the sword! Come on, drop it!"  
  
The Knight complied and the blade hit the floor of the alley below. She could feel his demon eyes burning holes into her, but he made no offensive move.  
  
"Now, climb up the fire escape and don't stop until you hit the roof!"  
  
He started climbing up the steps with a speed no human could have matched, reaching the roof in seconds. On the last step he seemed to stumble, foot slipping. A loose piece of metal tumbled down the fire escape and Buffy's eyes involuntarily followed it. She had a second to realize that she'd made a stupid mistake.  
  
Darla came to life below her, using the distraction to swat the stake away. Her other hand closed around Buffy's throat and the Slayer found herself lifted bodily off the prone Vampire, choking.  
  
"Nice idea," Darla said, slamming her body against the wall, "but lacking in execution."  
  
Buffy was on the verge of blacking out and put all her strength into one last kick, managing to dislodge the hand. Darla was fighting for balance on the edge of the iron railing. From the corner of her eyes Buffy saw that the Knight was on his way down again.  
  
Buffy sent Darla flying with another kick. The entire walkway shook and moments later she saw the reason why. The Knight had jumped off the fire escape, twisting in mid-air. A movement caught her eye in the alley below and she watched with amazement as the sword left the ground and flew toward its owner.  
  
The Butcher Knight caught his sword in mid-air as he was halfway down the fire escape. Buffy didn't even have time to react. He swung the sword and his downward momentum made it shear through four levels of fire escape. The entire metal construct came apart and Buffy screamed as she lost her footing, everything around her tumbling down.  
  
She had the distant impression of hitting the ground, then there was only darkness.  
  
###  
  
It was a gray day and Buffy stood on a field of grass that might have been green once, but all she saw when she looked down was red. Blood. So much blood.  
  
There were some burnt-out remains of huts in the distance, some of them still smoking as embers sizzled beneath the light rain that soaked into her robes. As she walked the ground beneath her squished, soaked with rain and blood.  
  
The ground was littered with bodies. Men in armor that might have been shining once, but was now stained with dirt, rust, and blood. Empty eyes looked up at her, regarding her with the kind of supreme disinterest only the departed managed.  
  
Only a few solitary figures were moving in the distance and Buffy found that her feet were carrying her toward a small group she could see standing beside a horse-drawn carriage. She could see one figure kneeling on the ground, one hand gently touching one of the bodies.  
  
"It was not your fault," one of the standing men said. The words sounded strange, not English. English was the only language she knew, though Giles would probably say that was debatable, but she understood them nevertheless.  
  
"It was my duty to protect her and I failed," the kneeling man said. His face was covered by the strands of his long hair, but the voice was familiar.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
None of them seemed aware of her presence. The standing man put a hand to Angel's shoulder.  
  
"She is at peace now. I know how much you loved her, my friend, but our duty must now be to whomever God has chosen next. We have to find her before the Butcher does."  
  
Angel pushed the other man away and rose to his feet, his face a mask of pain and fury.  
  
"And what will it achieve if we do? This abomination can not be stopped by sword or arrow. We will only lose again. Nearly a thousand men came to stop it and they all died. For naught!"  
  
"With God's help we will ..."  
  
"God has no power here," Angel screamed. "A thousand knights sworn to his service and he could not help them. The cross does not repel this monster. If God's grace can not aid me in battle then I renounce him!"  
  
The other men edged back from him, scared by the burning intensity they saw in his eyes.  
  
"Your grief does not excuse heresy!"  
  
"Leave! All of you! Crawl back into your churches and pray! I will find a way to stop the Butcher Knight without help of God."  
  
He knelt down, giving the prone form one final kiss on her dead lips. Only now did Buffy see that it was a young woman, little more than a girl, wearing battle armor. The armor was broken, the flesh beneath it torn and shredded.  
  
Without a doubt Buffy knew that this had been the Slayer, the one she had dreamed of being before. The Butcher Knight had killed her.  
  
Angel sheathed his sword and jumped on the back of a horse, riding toward the burnt-out village.  
  
#  
  
"Wakey, wakey!"  
  
The sound penetrated past the haze of unconsciousness and Buffy slowly came awake again. The last thing she remembered before that strange dream was the collapsing fire escape and a long fall into the alley below. As if in response her body began to hurt.  
  
Opening her eyes she saw a tangled mess of bent steel and metal girders, surrounding her like a spiders' web. Pain shot through her legs and arms as she tried to move, bringing tears to her eyes.  
  
"Looks like someone has gotten her wings plugged on the way down."  
  
The Butcher Knight stood only meters away, smirking at her. Darla stood half a step behind him, smiling broadly. Neither of them looked very hurt.  
  
"You gave a good accounting of yourself," the Knight complimented her, "but in the end it doesn't make a difference, deary. All Chosen Ones die at my hands. It has always been like this."  
  
She looked into his eyes and suddenly she knew. She knew what had happened to him, if not how. This was not the creature she had seen in her first dream. He looked like Angel and she knew why.  
  
"Not always, has it?" she asked him, trying to ignore the pain. "There was a time you protected the Chosen One, Angel! You fought against Darla and her creature to protect her, do you remember that?"  
  
For a moment the Knight seemed confused, shaking his head.  
  
"You confuse him with the flesh he wears," Darla said, "and such adorable flesh."  
  
She slid her hands across his nude upper body, snuggling into his side like a kitten.  
  
"This, my dear, is Angelus. My Butcher Knight. And now he will kill you!"  
  
She left his side and motioned for him to proceed. The Knight shook his head again and started to move toward Buffy, who was still pinned beneath the metal.  
  
"Remember who you are, Angel," she demanded. "You fought against her! You were desperate because you failed to protect the Slayer from her creature. You were ready to do anything to stop the Butcher Knight. You can do it now! You're stronger than he is!"  
  
She grew desperate as he came closer, her words seemingly without effect. She couldn't move as he stood before her, starting to raise his sword.  
  
"Angel, please! Remember how much you loved her!"  
  
A shiver went through the Knight's body and he hesitated. His demon eyes looked down upon his helpless victim and Buffy had the distinct impression that he was not seeing her, but someone else. Someone who had died over a thousand years ago.  
  
"Beloved?" he whispered, his voice not that of the demon.  
  
"Kill her," Darla screamed. "What are you waiting for?"  
  
He turned around to look at her and there was fire in his eyes.  
  
"Be ... Be Gone ...," he began, his voice shaking.  
  
"No," Darla yelled, coming closer. The Knight swatted her away with a backhand, then bent over as if in pain.  
  
"Be Gone ... Angelus, Butcher Knight!"  
  
Darla rose, looking at him with fear in her eyes.  
  
"Be Banished Back Into the Night!"  
  
"Stop! I command you! You are my creature, bound to me by blood!"  
  
The Knight ignored her, having fallen to his knees.  
  
"The New Day's Dawn Shall Be ... Shall Be Your Ban!"  
  
Energy sparkled around him, arcs of electricity running across his flesh like fingers, making him scream in pain. The sword fell to the ground, trailing energy behind it like a comet's tail. Darla screamed, demon face showing. Buffy suddenly noticed that one of her stakes was lying close to her hand.  
  
"Angelus," Darla was by his side, her hands on his shoulders.  
  
"Return Once More in Form of Man," the Knight screamed and Buffy had to close her eyes, the light around him flared into brilliance. Darla stumbled back and Buffy managed to get her arm free of the metal.  
  
The light faded after a second, shadows pooling in behind it, the light of the street lamps seeming like darkest night in comparison. Where the Butcher Knight had knelt but moments ago a man slid to the ground, groaning in pain.  
  
"No," Darla yelled again, coming closer once more. "You bastard! You think you have achieved something?"  
  
She kicked the prone figure and he groaned again, clutching his side.  
  
"You have achieved nothing! What you have done, I can undo!"  
  
She smiled and her eyes sparkled.  
  
"By Bond of Blood I Call the Might. Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light. I Curse ..."  
  
Before she could finish the incantation Buffy finally managed to prop herself up and let the stake fly with all her remaining strength. Her aim was unsteady, though, and she didn't hit the heart. Instead the wooden projectile buried itself in Darla's throat.  
  
The Vampire reared back in pain, trying to scream, but only a gurgled sound emerged. She stumbled, stood again, hands trying to pull out the stake without success. Moments later, seeing that Angel was on the verge of getting back to his feet, she took off running.  
  
Buffy leaned back, the pain from her movements only now becoming real. Angel rose on his elbows, looking at her with eyes that were thoroughly human again.  
  
"Angel," she whispered.  
  
"You ... you're not her," he managed, his throat raw from the screaming. Moments later he collapsed again.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	4. Part 4: Angel & Angelus

Where Angels Fear to Tread, p4  
  
###  
  
Angel regained his consciousness slowly, aware of the pain shooting through his flesh. It was always that way when he finally managed to wrest back control of his body from Angelus, yet never before had the demon fought him this intensely. He was aching all over.  
  
The demon. Angelus. His eyes shot open and bright light stabbed into them, forcing him to blink.  
  
"He's awake," an unknown voice said.  
  
After a few moments Angel was able to make out the face of a man leaning over him. He was quite certain he didn't know that man and neither was he familiar with the room that slowly too shape around him.  
  
"Mr. Fitzpatrick?" the man asked him. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Like I had to battle a demon for control of my body," he groaned. "Oh, wait! That really happened."  
  
He looked up to see two more people sitting in the room. One was a red- haired girl he seemed to remember from one of his classes, the other a dark- haired boy. Both of them were staring at him with a mixture of amazement and fear.  
  
Someone was missing from this picture, though.  
  
"Where ... where is ... the Slayer?"  
  
"Right here!"  
  
Turning his head he saw her coming down the stairs of the apartment he was in. She looked bruised all over and her left arm was in a makeshift sling, but apart from that she seemed unhurt. He breathed a silent sigh of relief. Thank God he hadn't added another to his long list of victims.  
  
Buffy sat down next to him, looking at him with concern in her eyes. Those eyes looked so very familiar to him. Like the eyes of another Slayer he had once known.  
  
"How do you feel?" she asked him.  
  
"Did I hurt you?" he asked back.  
  
She gave him a shy smile. "I'll live."  
  
"Mr. Fitzpatrick," the older man said, "we need to talk about certain things. Things concerning the entity living inside your body."  
  
"You are her Watcher, I guess?" he asked him.  
  
"Yes. My name is Rupert Giles."  
  
"But we all just call him Giles," the boy added. "My name is Xander, by the way. This is Willow. I guess you and Buffy met before."  
  
Angel nodded, looking at Buffy again. So close, he whispered to himself. So very close to snuffing another innocent life.  
  
"So you want to know about the Butcher Knight?" he asked them.  
  
"That would be helpful, yes," Giles said. "We have learned some of the story already. If our information is correct you and the Knight did not always share the same body, correct?"  
  
Angel shook his head.  
  
"I spent a large portion of my life trying to hunt that cursed creature down. I wanted to see it destroyed."  
  
"It killed your lover," Buffy said.  
  
"How do you ...?" he asked, then stopped. "Ah, I remember. Elia told me about the prophetic dreams she sometimes had. Is that where you learned of me?"  
  
"Yes. I dreamed of the night shortly after you came here. Afterwards I saw some scenes of a battle. You were there, trying to save me ... or the person from whose eyes I saw everything, from the Knight."  
  
"I failed," Angel whispered, balling his fists as he felt tears threatening to fall.  
  
Buffy put her hand on his shoulder and for a moment he could imagine that the last thousand years hadn't happened. That Elia was touching him, in the way only she could. It was but illusion, though. Elia was long dead. Dead because he had failed her.  
  
"After her death," Angel continued after a moment, "I could think of nothing else but hunting this creature down. I dedicated my life to it and followed it to my dying breath."  
  
"What happened?" Giles asked.  
  
"What you'd expect to happen when a mere mortal goes after a monster like Angelus." Angel gave a dry laugh. "I died."  
  
#  
  
He was dead.  
  
That knowledge took a while to penetrate, but once it was locked inside his head there was no going back.  
  
He was dead.  
  
He remembered how he had died. He had tracked down the Butcher Knight and engaged the monster in combat. He had fought with every last ounce of his strength, had used every dirty trick ever known, but in the end it had not been enough. The Knight had impaled him upon his monstrous sword and Liam O'Connelly, Earl of Angel's Haven, had died.  
  
He was dead.  
  
Looking around he found death to be a strange place, if place it was. There was light everywhere, turning the world around him into a single bright whiteness, devoid of all color or shape. He wondered whether he would soon face the Lord and whether his renouncing Him would earn him a place in Hell.  
  
After some time, he had no way to measure how long, he became aware of two shadowy figures in the distance. Lacking anything better to do he walked toward them.  
  
Soon he could make them out. A man and a woman, dressed in some kind of togas, skin the color of gold. Jesus and the Virgin Mary? Somehow he had never imagined them to look like this.  
  
"Welcome, warrior," the female greeted him, her voice a beautiful music.  
  
"Is this Heaven?" he asked her.  
  
"No, this is not heaven," the male said. "You might consider this a way station. If it is your wish to pass on into what you understand to be Heaven, you will soon do so."  
  
"First, though," the female continued, "we have a proposition for you. If you will hear it. It concerns the entity known as Angelus. The Butcher Knight."  
  
The familiar fury flooded through his veins, if veins he still had.  
  
"I want it destroyed," he growled.  
  
"Your hatred is strong, your will is even stronger. Which is why you are the right man."  
  
"Right man for what?"  
  
"The Vampiress known as Darla," the female explained, "made a terrible mistake when she summoned the Etrigani into the corporeal world. She has unleashed something even she has no hope of stopping or controlling in the long run. As she will soon learn."  
  
"No weapon can harm Angelus," the male continued, "nothing will ever kill him. He does not age, he does not die. Only a power greater than his own could banish him from the Earth once more and the resulting battle would lay waste to your world, warrior."  
  
His rage grew upon hearing those words.  
  
"What are you telling me? Are you trying to make me feel better for my failure? If nothing can hurt him, that means I never had a chance. Is this your way of making a mockery out of my life?"  
  
"No, we want to show you a way," the male said.  
  
"The Etrigani can not be destroyed," the female explained, "but he can be caged. We can bond his form to that of a man. It would have to be a man of exceptional strength and will. A man who will do anything to make sure that the entity he carries inside him never breaks its chains again."  
  
He understood.  
  
"You want to bond me with this creature? The one I have sworn to see destroyed? You must be mad!"  
  
"It is the only way to stop him. If you do not do it, he will carry on his mission. He will seek out Slayers and destroy them. He will slaughter everyone in his path. When he does not find a Slayer, he will kill everyone else he finds. He will never stop."  
  
He clenched his fists, the images of the monster on a rampage cascading through his mind.  
  
"What ... what will happen to me if I agree?" he asked.  
  
"You and Angelus will be bonded. The Knight does not age and neither will you. Nothing can kill him and the same holds true for you. If the bond is established it will be your task to keep the creature imprisoned inside you. It will be a constant struggle, for the demon is strong. If you prevail, the Earth will be safe from the Butcher Knight. If you do not, you will become Angelus and kill again."  
  
"Can you carry this burden to keep your world safe?" the female asked him.  
  
#  
  
"I said yes, of course," Angel said. "What else could I have done?"  
  
"You have carried this demon inside of you for a millennium?" Giles asked.  
  
"More or less. For nearly two centuries I was able to keep him imprisoned inside me. It wasn't easy, but I managed. I lead as normal a life as one who does not age could, never staying in any one place for too long a time for fear of being found out. It was not a good life, but neither was it unbearable."  
  
He leaned back, sighing deeply, feeling the memories press in on him.  
  
"Then, one day in the year 1189, I was in Italy. And Darla found me."  
  
###  
  
"I was a drifter in those days," Angel said, "never staying in one place for too long, trying not to make close friends as they would only age and die while I just went on. I knew that I would be on this Earth forever and so I intended to make the most of it, see every last spot, every last corner.  
  
"Rome, Italy. It was a truly beautiful city and I had planned to stay there for a few years to enjoy it to the fullest. I wasn't too shy about making casual acquaintances and one night, while I was on my way to court a young girl, it happened."  
  
"Darla," Buffy said.  
  
"Yes. I recognized her immediately. How could I not remember her. On the day the Butcher Knight took my beloved from me, the two of us had fought against each other. I knew how strong and powerful she was. I had experienced it firsthand.  
  
"On that night, though, I was sure the tables would be turned. I was immortal, nothing she could do would kill me. I share a portion of the Butcher Knight's strength, making me nearly her equal in a fight. I thought I would finally have my chance to get even with her. She had unleashed this monster upon the world and on this night she would pay."  
  
He shook his head, sighing.  
  
"I couldn't have been more wrong."  
  
#  
  
"Angelus," Darla whispered, a look of rapture spreading on her face.  
  
"I am not Angelus," Angel growled at her, fury in his eyes. He drew the sword he carried with him, looking forward to cutting the Vampire's head off her shoulders and ending her foul existence forever.  
  
Darla just smiled at him.  
  
"They have imprisoned you inside this mortal form, but I can taste you, my Butcher Knight! Just under the surface. I know how dearly you want to break free and kill again. Kill the Chosen Ones."  
  
Angel could feel the demon move inside his body, the words of her who had summoned him into this world stirring him up. Angel shook his head, refusing to yield. He had kept the fiend imprisoned inside him for two centuries and would continue to do so for all eternity.  
  
"You will never again spill innocent blood, monster," Angel snarled, making two menacing steps towards the Vampire. Darla never moved.  
  
"There is a Slayer living in this city," she said as if he'd said nothing, "killing my brethren. You will kill her for me, Angelus. Do what you were summoned to do!"  
  
The demon raged inside Angel's body, but still he held on. Never again, he had vowed! Never again would he allow this monster to be free. He had sacrificed everything to end its reign of terror and would be damned before he let it free again.  
  
"It's time to pay for your crimes, Vampire!" Angel raised the sword.  
  
At the last split second Darla raised a sword of her own and met his strike. The two started to do battle, striking and blocking with a speed and grace no mere human could have matched. Angel felt the power of the Knight flow into his limps and he welcomed it. It was only fitting that the monster would help him destroy its own summoner.  
  
Darla was driven back by his fury, steadily losing ground, but her smile never wavered. Angel put more effort into this attacks and Darla stumbled, her sword wrested from her hand, and found herself with her back to the wall, Angel's sword hovering close to her throat.  
  
"It ends tonight," he whispered, gathering his strength for the final blow.  
  
"Oh, it will," Darla agreed.  
  
Suddenly the night around them came alive. Before Angel knew what was happening half a dozen shadowy shapes surrounded him, reached for him, tore at him. Vampires, many of them. His sword vanished into the darkness and they held him in their iron grips, forcing him to his knees before a laughing Darla.  
  
"Where is your bravado now, Earl of Angel's Haven?"  
  
"You can't kill me," he growled, straining against the hold of his captors.  
  
"Nothing could be further from my mind," she laughed. "I want you just the way you are. Well, not quite the way you are right now."  
  
Angel was forced to watch as she took back her sword and sliced the blade across her own wrist. Dark red blood bubbled from the wound. Darla came forward and the Vampires wrenched him back to his feet.  
  
"I think we can yet improve you, my darling!"  
  
With that she forced her wrist to his throat and her tainted blood flowed down his throat.  
  
#  
  
Angel paused in his story, the pain of the memories evident on his face. Buffy edged closer to him without consciously realizing it, wanting to make the pain in his eyes go away. She placed a hand on his arm, hoping to offer him at least some comfort.  
  
Angel looked up at her, once more amazed how much she resembled his lost love. He shook his head. Elia was dead, dead for a thousand years, taken from him by the very monster he now carried inside himself. The monster that had almost killed the girl sitting beside him right now.  
  
"After drinking her blood," he continued after a moment, "my will weakened. I could hear her voice in my head, commanding me to obey. I wanted to obey her, I wanted to serve her, yet I managed to resist. The thought of the Knight getting free from inside me was stronger than her blood."  
  
He managed half a laugh.  
  
"I thought I would be strong enough to resist her. Once again, though, I was wrong."  
  
#  
  
Five nights. Or something close to that. He was no longer certain about the passage of time. Five nights, more or less, since Darla had taken him. Since she had fed him her tainted blood, which had robbed him of the will to fight her. Five nights of imprisonment in this dark dungeon where the monster taunted him day and night.  
  
Inside himself he felt the Butcher Knight, fighting against the chains, striving for the freedom that seemed so close.  
  
"Never," Angel whispered.  
  
Five days without water, food, or sleep. He was an immortal, it wouldn't kill him. It was taking his toll, though. He could feel his resolve weaken second by second. He was not sure how much longer he would be able to resist.  
  
Elia's face appeared before his eyes.  
  
"I will resist, beloved," he swore. "For you, I will resist!"  
  
The door to his cell opened and Darla walked in, looking as smug as ever, her lips spread in a sensuous smile.  
  
"Hello, Angelus! I've got good news!"  
  
"You contracted a fatal disease?"  
  
"Still defiant, are you? Well, I've got your medicine right here, boy!"  
  
She stood before him, fists on her hips, her smile chilling him to the bone.  
  
"I have to say I'm a bit sad. I seem to be losing my charms. But then again, if good old-fashioned womanly wiles do not work, there are other avenues to take."  
  
She leant in closer, brushing her lips along his cheekbones, whispering into his ear.  
  
"Over two centuries ago I summoned you into this world, Angelus. We are bound, you and I. Your mortal host is bound to me by my blood. I have researched the summoning ritual again and I think we might get lucky here."  
  
Angel's blood ran cold.  
  
"By Bond of Blood I call the Might," Darla began.  
  
Angel convulsed as the Knight moved inside him, screamed, ethereal fists smashing against his prison of flesh and blood. Angel bit down on his own lip to keep from screaming and blood ran down his face.  
  
"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light,"  
  
His blood started to boil as demon fire blazed brightly inside him, scorching his humanity, burning it away.  
  
"I Curse Your Soul with Satan's Bite,"  
  
He broke the chains that held him, falling to his knees and screaming out loud. His body began to break and shift, bones and muscle tearing apart and reforming themselves. His skin ripped apart like paper as something larger than himself tore through his form.  
  
"Arise Angelus," Darla laughed, "my Butcher Knight!"  
  
The screaming stopped and Darla beheld the huge man kneeling at her feet. His clothing had been ripped away and she could see every inch of muscled body and tanned skin. A growl filled the room as he rose, full of strength, and stood before her.  
  
"Welcome home, Angelus!"  
  
She had her Butcher Knight back, her glorious engine of destruction. Now the Slayers would live in terror once more. Never again would they feel safe either in night or daylight.  
  
"Find the Slayer," she commanded, "find her and kill her! Kill everyone who stands in your path! Level this city if you have to!"  
  
The Butcher Knight stood before her in all his glory. A shimmer in the air heralded the arrival of his sword, lost centuries ago, but once again speeding to its master's side. Angelus held the blade in hand and smiled a cruel smile.  
  
"I don't think so, Darla," he just said.  
  
Darla gasped.  
  
###  
  
"What happened?" Buffy asked.  
  
Angel sighed.  
  
"Darla was pretty much surprised, that was for sure. The Butcher Knight had been imprisoned inside me for two centuries. The one thing Darla had not considered was that his long connection to me might have changed him every bit as much as it changed me. Maybe even more so."  
  
#  
  
"What do you mean 'I don't think so'?" Darla asked the Butcher Knight.  
  
"What I said!" Angelus smirked at her. "I don't think so!"  
  
He stretched his long body, relishing in the feeling of freedom after so long a time. He twirled the sword in his hand, cherishing the blade like the long-lost friend it was. He laughed out loud, jubilant to be free.  
  
"I love it," he screamed.  
  
"Angelus," Darla yelled, furious.  
  
The Knight whirled around and grabbed her, pulling her in for a bruising kiss. Darla was too confused to resist and after a moment she no longer wanted to. She returned the kiss, their tongues dueling for dominance.  
  
Angelus pushed her away when he was satisfied and laughed again.  
  
"I never knew how much I missed. So many things to do in this world. Mindless slaughter is getting so boring after a few centuries. I think I need a bit of enjoyment in my life after all this time."  
  
Darla touched her bruised lips with her fingers, confused as to her own feelings. The Butcher Knight had always been a tool to her, a weapon to be aimed at her enemies. Never before had she thought of it as a man.  
  
"You said there is a Slayer in this town?" Angelus asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
He walked up to her, draping a huge arm around her slim shoulders, roughly pulling her into his body.  
  
"Tell me all about her, precious! Who are her friends, her companions?" He laughed. "Tell me how to hurt her the most!"  
  
#  
  
"Two hundred years in my body," Angel sighed, "and Angelus had acquired all the worst characteristics of humanity. At first he had just been a weapon. An engine of destruction. Thanks to me he learned cruelty, sadism, the joy of hurting someone.  
  
"On the bright side that meant that he was no longer slaughtering people by the hundreds. On the other hand, though ."  
  
#  
  
During the following three weeks the Butcher Knight went to do his bloody work in the city of Rome. His first targets were the parents of the Slayer and he killed them brutally, leaving their remains for everyone to find.  
  
Next came her brother, a young man who fought well, but was without the shadow of a chance against a monster from the pits of Hell. Angelus took his head and sent a servant to deliver it to the Slayer.  
  
The Slayer lived in her Watcher's house and Angelus took two weeks to slowly kill all her neighbors, creating a circle of death around her home that widened every night. Soon the people of the city were whispering among each other, whispering how the presence of that girl brought death and destruction down upon them.  
  
Superstition soon took hold and the Slayer was to be burned as a witch. Angelus watched from the shadows as she was dragged out of her home, the protests of her Watcher unheard, her strength no match against a scared and angry crowd. Angelus watched as they tied her to a stake and prepared to light the fires.  
  
With the Slayer helpless he strode onto the plaza where they planned to burn her and slaughtered everyone where they stood, cutting people down like so much grass with his mighty sword. The Slayer screamed and tried to break her bonds, but it was to no avail.  
  
Her Watcher was the last to fall before him, the blood exploding from his body as the Butcher Knight's sword cleaved him in two, staining the Slayer's rosy flesh. By that time she was beyond sanity, her world reduced to so much bloody remains, and Angelus found it to his liking.  
  
Before he finally killed her he first raped her, another thing he had learned to enjoy. He took his sweet time with her, killing her by inches. In the end she pleaded with him to finish it, to kill her.  
  
Angelus left her to slowly bleed to death as he and Darla took his leave.  
  
#  
  
Buffy could only stare as Angel recited the tale of the Knight's deeds, seeing the gory details before her mind's eye. How he must blame himself, she thought. To see one's own darkest urges and evils manifested in a creature like the Knight .  
  
"The Knight killed two more Slayers," Angel continued, "until I finally managed to regain control of our joint body once more. Angelus held knowledge of dark magic and I was able to tap into that, creating a counter spell to the one Darla used to summon the Knight from my body. Just the effort to make him speak those words that would bring me back ."  
  
Once again Buffy found herself filled with the almost physical need to comfort him. What was it about this man that moved her so? Surely it was not just his tale, though it was more than horrible enough. She couldn't get over the familiarity she felt with him.  
  
Angel, in turn, looked at Buffy and saw someone else. His soul cried out in need, needing her to be his dead beloved, Elia. She wasn't, he knew that, but still .  
  
"Since that time," he continued, "it has been a constant chase and struggle. I would manage to hide from Darla for decades, sometimes centuries, but eventually she would find me and summon forth the Knight to do her killing for her. After a time I would be able to regain control and flee from her once more. So it went for these last eight centuries."  
  
He closed his eyes.  
  
"I am starting to fear that this is the way it will always go."  
  
Giles looked up from the piece of paper where he had made notes during Angel's tale.  
  
"I am not so certain about that, Mr. Fitzpatrick. You told us that it would always take some time before you could regain control of the Knight and imprison him once more, correct?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"This time, though, you regained control after but a night. Did you ever manage this before?"  
  
Angel looked up at the Watcher, realizing that he was right. A night, just a single night.  
  
"No," he admitted, confused, "normally it takes me months, years, sometimes decades. Angelus is strong."  
  
"Then we must assume something has changed this time around. Something that weakened Angelus or strengthened you. If we can find out what that is, maybe help it along ."  
  
For the first time in centuries Angel allowed himself the luxury of hope. Just the tiniest ember of it, for a dozen lifetimes of loneliness and sacrifice had taught him better, but it was more than he had felt since that day in Italy.  
  
He looked at Buffy again. Something had changed? Something that had strengthened him?  
  
He was overcome by a memory. Elia, how beautiful she had been, how glorious their love had burned. When they lay together, comfortable in each other's presence, he would look upon her with wonder as she smiled at him.  
  
"You are my strength, my Angel," she would tell him, her strong hands touching him with such sweet tenderness. She had always called him her Angel, he had taken it as his name to keep her memory alive.  
  
"I am stronger for having you by my side, beloved," he replied, knowing that it was true. Together they had been stronger than apart, so very strong.  
  
He looked at Buffy, looked deep into her eyes. Somehow she knew of events centuries before her birth, knew details of his life that no one this side of the grave should know. Elia had told him about the Slayers' prophetic dreams. Was it just that?  
  
Or was it more?  
  
Buffy looked at Angel as he was staring at her and the look she saw in his deep brown eyes made her feel strong.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	5. Part 5: Elia

Where Angels Fear to Tread, p5  
  
###  
  
"First order of business," Giles said, "is the spells. Darla knows the summoning spell that will bring the Knight forth from your body. It would be prudent for us to know the spell that will bury him once more, just in case."  
  
Angel nodded.  
  
"I will give you the incantation. I am not sure, though, whether it will work if someone else speaks it."  
  
Giles handed him a piece of paper and Buffy watched as he wrote down the words that would change a demon back into a man.  
  
Be gone Angelus, Butcher Knight Be banished back into the Night The new Day's Dawn shall be your Ban Return once more in form of Man  
  
Giles took back the note, looked at it for a moment, and then handed it to Willow.  
  
"Willow here is an accomplished witch," Giles told Angel. "If anyone can invoke the spell, should it become necessary, I'm confident she can do it."  
  
"I should," Willow said. "Though I hope I don't have to. No offence, Mr. Fitzpatrick, but I'm not too keen on meeting your alter ego."  
  
"Welcome to the club," Angel mumbled.  
  
"Does anyone beside Darla know the spell that summons the Knight?" Buffy asked.  
  
"Some of her minions maybe," Angel said. "I don't think it would work for them, though. Darla's blood flows inside my veins and she was the one that originally summoned the Knight into the world."  
  
"So if we kill her you'll be safe," Buffy said confidently.  
  
"I've lost count on how often I tried to do that," Angel sighed.  
  
"Well," Buffy smirked, "she can't turn me into a demon with just a few words. Just let her turn up and I'll dust her for you."  
  
Angel couldn't help but smile at that. Seeing the optimism in this young girl made him want to believe that he might finally find some peace in this world. Darla gone, the Knight forever caged, it would be as close to paradise as he could ever get.  
  
Maybe even closer, he thought as he continued to look at her.  
  
Buffy looked into Angel's dark eyes and thought she would melt into a puddle of goo. His eyes shone with a light that seemed to reach right down into her soul. There was so much pain in there, but also a strength the likes she had never seen before. A thousand years, she reminded herself. For a thousand years he had battled a demon that shared his body, kept it imprisoned for most of that time.  
  
"Darla is injured," Giles continued, not oblivious to the looks exchanged between his Slayer and the thousand year old man, "so she will probably wait until she is fully healed before forcing another confrontation."  
  
"She can't very well invoke the spell with a stake in her throat." Buffy grinned.  
  
"Yes. Depending on her strength, she will probably be able to heal that wound in two to three days. It would be prudent to find her before that."  
  
Buffy stood, wincing just a little bit as her injured arm reminded her of its presence.  
  
"I'll go beat up Willy, maybe he knows something."  
  
"Are you sure you should go?" Angel asked, rising as well. "You took some beating at my ... the Knight's hands. You look like you could use some rest yourself."  
  
Buffy wanted to grin like an idiot. He was so sweet, being worried about her with everything that he himself had gone through.  
  
"He is right, Buff," Xander said. "I'll go visit Willy. You rest so you'll be back in top shape to kick that Vampire's ass!"  
  
She looked at Giles, who nodded, and she sank back into the couch with a sigh.  
  
"You're treating me like an invalid, people. It ain't that bad."  
  
Her protests were ignored and so Buffy sank back into the pillows. Xander left for Willy's and Giles returned to his books, at the same time softly talking with Angel. Buffy tried to keep track of the conversation, details about the Butcher Knight, Darla, Angel's long past, but she found that she was more tired than she had thought.  
  
A few minutes later she was asleep.  
  
#  
  
"It's too dangerous," he said, his eyes filled with worry.  
  
"I know that it is dangerous, my Angel," she replied. "It is my duty, though. I am the Chosen One."  
  
"It is true that ...," the old man standing to her right began.  
  
"You stay out of this, Watcher," the Earl of Angel's Haven thundered. "To you and your order she is nothing but a weapon. I will not allow you to sacrifice her on the altar of your crusade!"  
  
She saw how he was trembling with fury and her heart went out to him.  
  
"This monster must be stopped," she told him in a soft voice. "And it falls to me. I would not have it slaughter more innocents while I am hiding here in the castle."  
  
"I have a thousand men ready to march into battle, my heart," he said, armoured fist clutching his own sword. "God willing this monster will not see another sunrise."  
  
She sighed, glancing at her Watcher, motioning for him to leave them be for a moment. The old man grumbled, but complied.  
  
"I know your heart is filled with fear for me, my Angel," she said once the Watcher was out of earshot, "but I have long accepted my calling. I do not want to die and lose you, either, but I can not stand idly by."  
  
He looked down, his long hair hanging over his face. She walked up to him and brushed the strands away from his features.  
  
"You always understood my duty before."  
  
"I did my best, beloved," he answered, softly taking her hand into his, "yet this is not like other times. This monster has killed hundreds and, if your Watcher is to be believed, it has also killed two Chosen Ones before you."  
  
He pressed a soft kiss to her brow.  
  
"So if I can not convince you to stay, my heart, let us at least ride into battle together. Where is it written that Chosen One must face every challenge alone? Let this monster beware the swords of a thousand knights. Let my sword guard your back so that we will both return home safe and sound."  
  
She smiled up at him.  
  
"You are my strength, my Angel."  
  
#  
  
In her sleep Buffy mumbled these words and Angel looked at her with wide eyes. Almost without conscious effort his hand reached out to hers, fingers interlacing, and his lips moved to form his reply, the same words he had said to his beloved a thousand times before.  
  
"I am stronger for having you by my side, beloved." Was it true? Was she by his side once more?  
  
Giles did not miss this quiet interchange and his brow furrowed. Quietly he rose from his chair and collected a book from one of the stands. He flipped through the pages and stopped only when he found the chapter he had been looking for.  
  
"Reincarnation." He mumbled to himself as he started reading.  
  
###  
  
The man crumbled to the ground, pale and drained of blood, and Darla sighed contentedly. Her throat was starting to heal and soon she would be at full strength once more. Strength enough to pay a certain blonde bitch back for putting a stake through her neck.  
  
She slumped into her chair, thinking. How had he done it? She was almost used to the cycle between her and Angel by now. She would find him, raise the Knight, they would wreck havoc, then Angel would regain control and she would have to track him down again. She had almost come to enjoy it, this game of cat and mouse.  
  
Now everything was different, though. A single night. Just a single night and Angel had regained control. Something must have changed, but Darla just couldn't figure out what. Was it because the Slayer had reminded him of his past? No, couldn't be. She had taunted Angel about his past for years without end and he had never been stronger for it.  
  
Magic? Had the Slayer - with that thrice-damned prophetic power they sometimes had - somehow known that the Knight would come and prepared a counter spell? No, Angelus had spoken the words. Somehow Angel had found the strength to overwhelm her glorious Knight and she had to know how.  
  
She started making a plan. Even an immortal Vampire didn't get to be over a thousand years old by being a fool and rushing into things. Right now Angel was probably with the Slayer, telling her everything. The Slayer would probably figure that killing her was the safest course of action. Angel couldn't be killed, so taking out the only one who could turn him into a monster was the best way to lock the Butcher Knight away forever.  
  
Darla had no intention of getting herself killed. She wanted her Knight back, not just for a single night, but longer. They hadn't even had the opportunity to embrace the passion that united them. Angelus was the most magnificent lover she had met in a thousand years and she had had quite a few. He was great at everything he did - not that he did much outside murder, torture, and sex - and she wanted him back.  
  
First order of business: Kill the Slayer. She couldn't afford to have Angelus kill her, not if there was something about her that made Angel stronger. Magic, words, pretty eyes, Darla didn't care what it was, she just wanted to see her dead. Preferably with a lot of pain over an extended period of time.  
  
She was still not able to speak properly, so she motioned to one of her minions. He understood her without words. All of them would go out tonight. Go out and capture the Slayer for her. Kill her if necessary, but if in any way possible Darla wanted that pleasure reserved for herself.  
  
She was looking forward to it.  
  
#  
  
Buffy woke after some deep sleep, feeling rested and relaxed. She found that she was no longer lying on the couch in Giles' living room, but rather in the bed of his guest room. She must have really been out of it if she hadn't even noticed being carried up here.  
  
She rose from the bed, stretching, and started to walk down the stairs. There were voices sounding from below.  
  
"Something like that is actually possible?" She heard Angel's voice and it made her feel all fuzzy inside.  
  
"There are few precedents," Giles answered him. "Cases where people remember earlier lives. There is, of course, no reliable means to prove that those memories are more than fiction or lies, but ..."  
  
"Hi, guys," she greeted them, coming down the steps. Both Angel and Giles looked at her, falling silent.  
  
"What were you just talking about?" she asked.  
  
"Buffy," Giles flustered. "We were ... in fact we were ..."  
  
"Discussing how to find Darla," Angel finished the sentence.  
  
"What does finding Darla have to do with people remembering earlier lives?" she asked, confused.  
  
Angel and Giles looked at each other for a long moment, then Angel motioned for her to sit down on the couch and sat down beside her.  
  
"The truth is we ... you said some things in your sleep, Buffy."  
  
"I'm talking in my sleep?" she asked, blushing. "It was not about ... I mean, did I say anything about a guy with cheese?"  
  
"Cheese?" Giles asked.  
  
"Forget it!"  
  
"No," Angel said. "Actually you were ... you were talking like ... Damn, I don't know how to explain this."  
  
"Just tell me, okay?"  
  
"You were having a conversation in your dreams, Buffy," Giles said. "A conversation that, as insane as it sounds, is one that Mr. Fitzpatrick remembers having held about a thousand years ago."  
  
"What? Why should I ... I mean, why should I recite conversations from Angel's memories?"  
  
"Not exactly my memories," Angel said, looking at her with searching eyes. "You ... your part in this conversation was that of someone else. Someone I had this very same conversation with."  
  
"Who?" Buffy asked. "And why should I know what you talked about with someone who lived more than a thousand years ago?"  
  
"It was ... it was Elia," Angel said, his eyes filling with pain.  
  
Buffy was speechless for a moment.  
  
"Elia? You mean ... the woman you loved? The Slayer that the Butcher Knight killed?"  
  
"Yes!" He clenched his fists.  
  
"Buffy," Giles intervened, "you told me that, the very moment you first saw Mr. Fitzpatrick, you felt some kind of connection to him, right?"  
  
"I wouldn't go as far as saying there was a connection, Giles. It was more like ... you know, really handsome guy, single girl ..." Buffy blushed deeply.  
  
"And when Angel had been turned into the Butcher Knight," Giles continued, "you spoke to him of his past, a past you had seen in your dreams, and it was enough to allow Angel regain control of the Knight."  
  
"Yes, but ..." Angel was looking at her again with those intense eyes of his.  
  
"Buffy, I believe it is possible, thought it might sound quite mad, that were are dealing with a case of reincarnation here."  
  
"Reincarwhat?"  
  
"Reincarnation. The rebirth of someone who has already lived one or more lives into a new body. There is a theory that there are only a limited number of souls and that each soul is continuously reborn without retaining any memory of earlier lives, at least that is how it normally works. There have been documented cases of people remembering events from earlier lives, yet there was never any conclusive proof that ..."  
  
"So what you're telling me," Buffy interrupted Giles, "is that, what? I'm not Buffy, but really Elia?"  
  
Angel almost flinched when she said the name of the woman he had loved more than life itself.  
  
"No, Buffy," Giles said. "I'm saying that you are Buffy Summers. Buffy Summers, who might have been, in an earlier life, a woman called Elia."  
  
Buffy looked into Angel's eyes, which had never wavered from her face. She saw the desperate hope inside them. The hope that, after a thousand years, he might finally be reunited with someone he had believed forever out of his reach.  
  
Buffy herself, though, she was scared.  
  
"It would explain your dreams, that knowledge of events in times past," Giles continued. "It would explain why Angel was able to gain control of the Knight so quickly."  
  
Buffy stood, moving a few steps across the living room.  
  
"Look, no offense people, but I don't particular like the idea that I'm a recycled piece of soul, okay? And I'm certainly not hot about remembering having died a few dozen times already. I'm Buffy and I like being Buffy. Most of the times. I don't want any ghosts in my head."  
  
"We're not dealing with a ghost here, Buffy."  
  
"No, just a woman that died over a thousand years ago worming her memories into my head."  
  
As soon as she spoke those words she wanted to take them back. She saw Angel flinch, his eyes filled with so much pain that she wanted nothing better than to go to him and comfort him. Yet that impulse filled her with dread. Was it her or someone else that wanted to do this?  
  
"Angel, I ...," she began.  
  
"Is there a way to be certain?" Angel asked Giles, looking away from her.  
  
"Well, yes. Maybe. If my theory is correct then Buffy carries all the memories of Elia inside her head. We could use hypnosis and try to unlock them."  
  
"Hey, I'm still here," Buffy yelled. "And I don't like this idea at all."  
  
"Buffy, we need to be certain," Giles tried to calm her. "Right now you are seeming to remember bits and pieces without having any kind of conscious control over it. If such were to happen in the midst of battle ..."  
  
Buffy remembered how, in the middle of fighting the Butcher Knight, she had suddenly seen an image of herself and Angel in a large, really old-looking bedroom. It had almost cost her life, even though it had been but a moment's distraction.  
  
She looked at Angel, who was looking her way with an intensity that made her want to run away. She sighed and her shoulders slumped in defeat.  
  
"Okay, Giles! Get out the hypno gear!"  
  
###  
  
Buffy sat on a chair and her eyes followed the golden pendant Giles was swinging in front of them. His voice had taken on a strange timbre, something that washed over her and seemed to wrap her brain in cotton. She had a brief image of Angel, who was sitting on the couch nearby, watching her intently. Having him this close felt good.  
  
Her lids started to grow heavy and a moment later she realized that her eyes had closed. Darkness surrounded her, but she wasn't afraid of it. Everything seemed unreal to her, one step removed from reality. She could still see things, even though her eyes were closed. Fancy that.  
  
"Can you hear me, Buffy?" she heard Giles voice hailing from somewhere out of sight.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I want you to go back. Do you remember the dream you had last night?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I want you to go back to that dream, Buffy. Go back into the world you saw in your dreams and tell me when you arrive there."  
  
The darkness moved and parted around her as she made her way back. She didn't quite know where to go, but moments later she was there. She recognized the room, stone walls adorned with hangings and large paintings, candle light flickering in the corners, a large fireplace the only place of warmth. This was the place, she was sure, the place from her dreams. The place that felt so very much like home, though she was not sure how that could be. Wasn't home some place else?  
  
"I am here," she said, certain that Giles could hear her.  
  
"Tell me who you are," Giles voice sounded from the distance.  
  
She had to think about that for a moment, her thoughts hazy and unfocused. Who was she? It was a tricky question and she tried to find some clue to the answer. This place held the answer, she was sure. She looked around until she found a mirror of polished metal standing in the corner. She saw herself in that mirror and wondered why her features appeared so unfamiliar for a moment. Hadn't she always looked like this?  
  
"Tell me who you are," Giles repeated.  
  
"I am me," she said. "I am the Chosen One."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"My name?" Hadn't he called her by a name earlier? Why was he asking about her name? She looked at herself in the mirror again and tried to remember what her name was. It shouldn't be so hard to remember one's own name, should it?  
  
She looked at her own face, a pale face surrounded by long hair coloured a dark blonde, curling at the edges. Somehow the colour seemed off, yet she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her own face reminded her of another face she knew, or thought she knew.  
  
She remembered a woman, an older woman in a hut near the town that had always read stories to her when she was little. She remembered the soft and compassionate eyes of that woman, set in a face that looked so very much like her own, the beautiful way her silver hair shimmered in the sunlight. She remembered calling that woman Grandmother and she remembered what the woman had called her in turn.  
  
"I am Elia," she said.  
  
#  
  
Angel had to keep himself from jumping to his feet when she said those words. Could it really be true? Was she really Elia? He couldn't quite believe it yet, wouldn't allow himself to believe it. Giles had told her to go into the dream and maybe that was all she saw, a dream. A dream conjured up by her prophetic abilities, nothing more.  
  
He had to be certain.  
  
"May I ...?" he asked Giles, who was sitting in front of Buffy.  
  
"Elia," Giles said. "There is someone else who wants to ask you some questions, all right?"  
  
She nodded, not opening her eyes, and Angel knelt down in front of her, searching her face for answers.  
  
"Hello, Elia," he began, saying her name almost more than he could bare.  
  
"Hello."  
  
"Do you know who I am?"  
  
Her lips curved into a smile. "My Angel," she whispered.  
  
Hearing the old endearment from her mouth almost drove tears to his eyes. He balled his fists, wrenching himself back to the task at hand with every erg of willpower he had. He had to be sure before he allowed himself hope. He had to be sure.  
  
"Tell me how we met, Elia," he said, trying to think of something Buffy had not seen in one of her dreams. "Tell me of our first meeting!"  
  
#  
  
The world around her shifted and wavered, solid shapes becoming fluent and reforming into something else. Another place, yet one that seemed familiar as well. So very familiar.  
  
Dark stone walls rose on one side of her, the gray walls of a castle. She was standing in a dirty street, several buildings close by, the only light hailing from the moon hanging high overhead. The ground was cold beneath her feet, the temperature was close to freezing. An icy wind ruffled her hair.  
  
She was not alone.  
  
There was a man there. A young man, just a few years older than she herself was, dressed in fine noble clothing, a sword clutched in one hand. He was staring at her with wild eyes and she remembered why he seemed so afraid.  
  
It had to do with the heaps of dust at her feet.  
  
"Fear not, good Sir," she told him. "No more harm shall come to you tonight."  
  
There were two bodies close to him on the ground, torn throats bleeding, eyes staring into the night without seeing a thing. They had been his companions, guards tasked with keeping the young noble safe from the night. Neither of them had been prepared for the terrors, though. Things that wouldn't stay dead when you ran them through with a sword.  
  
She had come too late to save his guards, but the two Vampires had paid with their lives. They crumbled into dust before the eyes of the frightened man, which now rested on the strange saviour that had appeared out of nowhere.  
  
"Who are you?" he whispered.  
  
She looked at the young noble and had to suppress a smile. She knew now who he was. The son of the Earl, she had seen him from a distance at a feast at the Earl's castle a few weeks ago. He had a reputation as a foolish womaniser, always chasing after the girls, driving his poor father crazy.  
  
"I am no one important, Sir," she told him. "You should probably return home now, the streets are not safe at night."  
  
She turned away from him, but moments later he started after her.  
  
"Please, my Lady, tell me your name! You saved my life this night and I would not see you go without expressing my gratitude."  
  
She looked into his face and his dark brown eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight. She could not help but smile at him, he was a very handsome man. For a moment she entertained the notion ... but no, it could not be. She was the Chosen One, her life held no room for such feelings.  
  
"My name is Elia," she told him, "and there is no need for gratitude. It is my sacred duty to destroy the demons of night. Think nothing of it!"  
  
#  
  
Angel listened as Buffy described their first encounter in vivid detail. He remembered that night well. He had been out to chase girls, as he had done so often in his foolish youth, and the Vampires had almost killed him before this strange girl appeared to save him. A girl that dressed like a man and fought like a demon. Never had he seen someone move like that, so fast and strong.  
  
She had disappeared into the night shortly afterwards, but he had already fallen for her by that time. He had found her within the week, the daughter of a minor nobleman in the town below his father's castle. She was even more beautiful in the sunlight than at night and from that moment on there had been no room for anyone else in his heart or his thoughts.  
  
His parents had been anything but pleased when he started to court her, but even his father had not been able to miss the love that soon developed between them. He finally gave them his permission. Elia's parents did not need much convincing when the son of the Earl asked for the hand of their daughter.  
  
Angel looked at Buffy. There was no way she could have known all these details from one of her dreams. She knew everything. She talked of the special smiles they had had, of the secrets they had shared. It left him with no other conclusion.  
  
She was Elia.  
  
He motioned to Giles to bring her out of the trance when he caught a glimpse of something behind one of the windows.  
  
Vampire faces.  
  
"Giles," he shouted a warning, then the windows exploded inward.  
  
  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	6. Part 6: The Deal

Where Angels Fear to Tread, p6  
  
#  
  
Angel tried to shield his face from the exploding glass, at the same time moving his body in front of Buffy. Elia. She was still sitting on the chair, oblivious to the world, unable to defend herself. Angel looked at the Vampires standing outside the window. There had to be a dozen of them.  
  
"Giles," he yelled. "Are you all right?"  
  
The Watcher looked up, his face covered with a few tiny cuts from the glass, but otherwise seemed unharmed. He, too, was staring at the Vampires.  
  
"They can't come in here. They're not invited."  
  
Angel knew as well as Giles that there were ways around that and looked for a weapon, any weapon. Thanks to the demon that inhabited his body he was almost as strong as a Vampire, yet attacking a dozen of them with his bare hands was not something he wanted to try.  
  
"Get Buffy out of her trance," Angel yelled, at the same time diving for the open throve where Giles kept his weapons.  
  
Giles was halfway toward Buffy, mouth opening to speak the words that would snap her out of it, when one of the Vampires threw something at him. Angel saw it from the corner of his eye, had a fraction of a second to recognize it as a brick, and moments later it impacted with the back of Giles' head. The Watcher slid to the ground, unconscious, bleeding.  
  
Angel's hands found a loaded crossbow in Giles' throve and he started aiming it when one of the Vampires threw something else into the room. A lasso? Angel was dumbfounded for a moment and it sufficed for the rope to wrap itself around Buffy's unmoving form.  
  
"No," he screamed, shooting. The first bolt hit one of the Vampires and he crumbled into dust, but another quickly grabbed the rope and started pulling. Buffy fell out of her chair and was dragged toward the shattered window.  
  
Angel dropped the crossbow, no time to reload it, and ran toward Buffy, catching her by the legs. He pulled against the rope, trying to keep her inside the room, his eyes darting around for something to cut the rope with. Why hadn't he thought to bring something from the throve, damn it?  
  
He was losing this tugging contest and his attempts to snap Buffy out of her trance were unsuccessful. She didn't even open her eyes, a smile still on her lips. The Vampires had almost managed to drag her toward the window when Angel let go and instead jumped them.  
  
His first kick caught one of the Vamps in the head and threw him back. The element of surprise allowed him to knock down two others, but he was out of his depth. There was a dozen of them and he was but a man.  
  
A punch connected with his jaw and threw him back into the room, stars exploding in front of his eyes.  
  
By the time he managed to rise again the Vampires were gone. And so was Buffy.  
  
Elia.  
  
#  
  
"Elia?" Darla asked.  
  
"That is what the men said," the minion replied. "They called her Elia."  
  
Darla looked at the girl, the Slayer, and a smile crept onto her lips. Buffy had managed to snap herself out of the trance, but too late to keep the Vampires from chaining her down. She stared up at Darla with impotent fury in her eyes.  
  
"So you are the Earl's long-lost bitch, eh?" Darla laughed.  
  
"Let me go and I'll show you who's a bitch," Buffy snarled.  
  
Darla shook her head, still laughing, and knelt down in front of Buffy.  
  
"I just wanted to kill you, you know? No fancy plans, no long and exhausting torture scenes, just kill you. I think I will have to do something else, though. I mean, the irony is just too delicious. I had to listen to Angel moan about his lost love for a millennium, you know? And here you are, alive again, a Slayer again."  
  
She reached out with one of her hands and grabbed Buffy by the chin, wrenching her head around.  
  
"Which means that Angel will get to see you die again."  
  
#  
  
"We have to calm down," Willow said, not sounding too calm herself.  
  
"I'm not calm," Xander informed her. "Anyone else not feeling calm right now?"  
  
Angel was pacing the room, paying no attention to the sound of crunching glass beneath his feet. They had Elia. Darla had Elia. There was no doubt in his mind those had been Darla's Vampires.  
  
Had Elia been returned to him after a millennium, only to be taken away again?  
  
"We need to go after them," Xander said. "Willy said that a large group of Vampires has moved into a mansion in Crawford street. I'm betting that's where we'll find them."  
  
Giles looked up from the couch, pressing a pack of ice to the back of his head.  
  
"I hate to say this, but without Buffy our chances of taking on a Vampire group as large as the one that attacked us are close to null."  
  
"So we'll do nothing?" Xander asked. "I can't accept that."  
  
"We will do something," Angel said, coming to a cold realization. "But we'll need some help."  
  
"Who could possibly help us against a Vampire group this large?" Giles asked.  
  
Angel grabbed his coat from the wall and started toward the door.  
  
"An old friend," he just said.  
  
#  
  
Angel reached the alley where Buffy had fought the Butcher Knight and started to sift through the rubble of the collapsed fire escape. Every instinct inside him screamed to just forget about this insane idea and head toward Crawford Street. He was an Earl, he had commanded battles against armies numbering in the thousands.  
  
Yet against a dozen or more Vampires he was powerless. If he just walked in there Darla would just make him watch Elia die and then transform him into the Knight once more. That was if Elia wasn't already dead.  
  
He didn't allow himself to think that.  
  
His fingers found something beneath the rubble and he needed all his strength to pull it out. When it finally came free he stumbled back, looking at what he held in his hands.  
  
The sword of the Butcher Knight.  
  
Angel took a deep breath and knelt down on the ground, grabbing the blade with both hands, and closed his eyes. He had done this only once before and sworn that he'd never do it again.  
  
"Never is a long time," he murmured, then started to concentrate.  
  
"Well, well, well," someone said. Angel opened his eyes.  
  
He was standing in the living room of a mansion, a fire burning in the huge fireplace, and looked at the man sitting in the big chair in front of it.  
  
"To what do I owe the honor of this visit?" Angelus asked.  
  
"We need to talk," Angel replied.  
  
  
  
###  
  
"I must say, Earl," Angelus said, "I am impressed. No, really. Here I thought the first thing you'd do was run as fast as you can. That's all you have done these past 1000 years, after all. Run away from Darla. Run away from me."  
  
He rose from his chair and walked closer to Angel.  
  
"What is the matter, Earl? Have you finally developed some back bone?"  
  
"I am here to talk to you, Angelus," Angel said, walking over to another chair and dropping into it. The room around them was featureless black marble, white veins running through the walls, the fire place the only break in the monotony.  
  
It was not a place at all, Angel knew. They were inside his mind.  
  
"Darla has your girl," Angelus said, sitting down as well. "Elia. Who'd have thought? Returned to you after a millennium, that's truly poetic. Too bad Darla has probably killed her by now."  
  
Angel didn't allow his anguish to show on his face, then realized that deception was impossible here. Angelus knew his emotions and thoughts, just as he knew Angelus'.  
  
"Of course," the demon continued, "if she has figured out that she's Elia, Darla might just take her time. Granted, Darla isn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, how smart can she be if she brought something like me to Earth, after all, but the minions listened in on your little séance session. Yes, I think Darla will take her time. She'll probably want to make you watch, too."  
  
Angelus laughed and leaned back in his chair. "Now, what do you want to talk about?"  
  
"Us," Angel said. "The two of us. And how you have spent the last 1000 years allying yourself with the wrong side."  
  
"Oh, have I?"  
  
"Yes, you have. Think about it, Angelus! The two of us, we are bound forever. I have accepted that. I think you have, too, you just haven't thought things through to the end. Haven't realized what it means for you."  
  
Angel leaned forward, his eyes blazing with rage.  
  
"Darla is the only one who can summon you forth from my body. You are not strong enough to do it on your own, demon, you know that. I, on the other hand, will always manage to regain control after a time and imprison you again until Darla summons you once more."  
  
Now a smile spread on his lips.  
  
"But Darla won't be around forever. I will see her dead. Maybe not tonight, maybe not next year, maybe it will take me another thousand years, but I will see her dead. Or maybe a Slayer will get her, a demon hunter, or maybe an angry crowd. Darla doesn't age, but neither is she invulnerable like us. Sooner or later she will die.  
  
"The two of us, on the other hand, we will be around forever. And once Darla is gone that means you will be stuck down here for all eternity. Imprisoned in this room, forever forced to do nothing but watch through my eyes. Is that what you want to do for the rest of eternity, Angelus?"  
  
The demon had followed his words without blinking or saying a word, his hands folded in front of his face.  
  
"I am not looking forward to that, no," Angelus finally said. "Yet, like you said, I have had to accept my fate. The Powers That Be have imprisoned me here and they are too powerful for even me to overcome. I am stuck here."  
  
He rose, walking around the confines of this room that wasn't a room.  
  
"The prospect of spending eternity here is not pretty, I admit. But for me, Earl, this isn't a matter of much choice, is it? For the moment, however fleeting, Darla is still around. Still around to summon me forth, so I might as well have my fun while I still can. I will need some fun memories to keep me amused the rest of eternity."  
  
Angel shook his head.  
  
"Fun, Angelus? You don't even know what that means. Look at you!"  
  
Angel rose and walked toward Angelus until the two of them were almost nose to nose.  
  
"You are still the same little demon Darla summoned forth all these centuries ago. Oh, granted, you don't ride around on that big black horse anymore, don't mow down armies left and right. These days you kill a little sneakier, maybe cause a bit more pain to your victims. Is that all you learned, Angelus? A thousand years bonded to me and that is all you learned?"  
  
Angelus opened his mouth to say something, but Angel cut him off.  
  
"Sorry, I forgot. You have also enjoyed the pleasures of sex. Only problem, Angelus, you haven't done anything with it. Sure, you screwed a dead body. And raped the occasional victim. Is that all Angelus? Is death and suffering all you know, all you are? Because if that's the case, you are nothing at all."  
  
For a long moment the two just stared at each other, then Angelus' lips spread into a smile.  
  
"Great speech, Earl. I'm impressed yet again. You're just making a basic mistake here, I'm afraid. You're saying death and destruction is all I am? Sure, you're right. And I'm happy that way. I happen to like bringing death and destruction. That feeling when my sword slashes through flesh and bone, the smell of blood in the morning, the cries of the dying. I like it."  
  
He leaned forward until their foreheads were touching.  
  
"And I happen to know you like it, too, Earl. You're a warrior. You led thousands of men into battle. Don't tell me you didn't enjoy the carnage! The slaughter! Don't tell me you didn't feel some enjoyment when you were forced to watch me slaughter my victims with your hands."  
  
Angel didn't blink.  
  
"Maybe I did. I never saw myself as a virtuous man, Angelus. I know that there is darkness inside me. The difference between you and me, though, is that for me, the darkness is but a part of what I am. It's all you are."  
  
"And so what?"  
  
Angel walked away from Angelus and sat down in the chair again, folding his hands.  
  
"So here is what is going to happen, Angelus. I'm going to leave you here in a few minutes. I'm going to a mansion in Crawford Street and I will attempt to free Elia and kill Darla. Odds are I will fail, Elia will die, and Darla will summon you from my body."  
  
"Glad to hear you are so optimistic about it," Angelus smiled.  
  
"That is one possible scenario. The other is that you will help me."  
  
For a moment Angelus seemed dumb struck, then he exploded into laughter.  
  
"That was a good one, Earl, really. I'll play. Why should I help you?"  
  
"Because it's a good time to switch sides. Because it will free you from being Darla's plaything."  
  
He rose again.  
  
"And because I'm offering you a deal."  
  
###  
  
Darla laughed as Buffy was unable to keep from screaming. Blood was flowing down the Slayer's cheek from where Darla's nails had left deep cuts and the Vampire was greedily licking the blood from her fingers, savoring the taste.  
  
"Slayers," she mumbled, "there is nothing quite like them. I remember each and every one we killed together, my Butcher Knight and I. There were so many of them."  
  
"Did you talk them to death?" Buffy mumbled, trying for the thousandth time to break the chains that kept her bound. They didn't give.  
  
"I never tried it that way," Darla confessed with a smile. "I'm afraid I'm too impatient a girl to do it. I prefer the quicker and more painful versions."  
  
With that she walked over to the mansion's fireplace and grabbed a poker that had lain in the fire for at least half an hour. The tip of it was glowing a dull red.  
  
"I wonder where I should put this," Darla mused. "Do we take an existing opening or make a new one?"  
  
She moved the poker so close to Buffy's face that the heat was making her hairs smolder. She tried to turn her face away, but Darla's hand shot forward and grabbed her by the chin.  
  
"No cheating here," she said. "I want you to get the full experience."  
  
"That will not be necessary, Darla."  
  
Both Vampire and Slayer looked up to see that someone had entered the mansion. Angel was there, standing in front of the doors. Buffy sighed deeply upon seeing him, only to realize that this was no cause for elation. What was he doing here? He couldn't free her all by himself, not with this many Vampires around.  
  
She saw that he was carrying the sword of the Butcher Knight in his hand and her heart skipped a beat. What was going on here?  
  
"Angel," Darla smiled broadly. "So glad you could join us here tonight. I wanted to be the first to congratulate you. Reunited with your precious Elia after all these centuries. It's a cause for a party, isn't it?"  
  
Angel made a few steps forward, the look in his eyes making the minions that had moved to intercept him step back.  
  
"You always talked too much, Darla," he simply said.  
  
"Do I?" she asked. "Yes, maybe. What can I say? I love talking. Might be one of my faults, but I can live with that."  
  
Angel stopped but a few meters away from her, looking into her eyes.  
  
"One chance, Darla. Let her go now and you can leave here alive."  
  
For a moment she just stared at him, then exploded into laughter.  
  
"Oh, my darling boy. It's so nice to see that you have regained your backbone after all this time. Sadly it will avail you nothing. I'm a conservative in these matters, you see? Those who die should stay dead."  
  
"Look who's talking," Buffy remarked dryly.  
  
Darla gave her a venomous glare, and then turned back to Angel with a sweet smile on her lips.  
  
"Now, Angel. What next? I can't imagine you would come here, give me that sort of cheap threat, and having nothing else up your sleeve. I mean, you were a great warrior back in the good old days. Not that it availed you anything even back then, but I would think you'd have some sort of master plan to take me out and free your lady love."  
  
"Something like that," Angel said, lips spreading into a smile of his own.  
  
Darla looked at the sword he held in his hand.  
  
"Is that it? Angel, you should know better. You share but a tiny portion of Angelus' strength and his sword will not do anything for you. Boys!"  
  
The minions moved closer to him, encircling him, cutting off his retreat. Angel briefly glanced at them, his face showing no worry, then turned back to Darla.  
  
"I wanted to give you a chance, Darla," Angel said. "I don't know why, but it doesn't really matter. I knew you wouldn't take it."  
  
"I think I am getting bored of this now," Darla replied. "I just can't decide yet whether to kill her now and then turn you back into my wonderful Knight or do it the other way around. It's a difficult choice."  
  
"Don't worry," Angel said. "I will make it for you."  
  
Darla looked at him, confused. Angel just smiled.  
  
"By Bond of Blood I call the Might," he began.  
  
"What is this?" Darla asked, not believing that she heard him utter those words.  
  
"Of Fire From Hell, Inferno's Light," Angel continued, his body beginning to tremble with unleashed energy. Buffy looked at him with wide eyes, every bit as surprised as Darla. What was he doing?  
  
"I Curse My Soul with Satan's Bite," Angel went on, dropping to his knees. The sword was still clutched in his hand and now sparkled with an unearthly radiance. Darla was screaming but her words were drowned out by the roar of power surrounding Angel now.  
  
"Arise Angelus, Butcher Knight!"  
  
Buffy had to avert her eyes as the brilliance lit the entire mansion, burning away all the shadows, causing the Vampires to hiss in fear. Angel's voice turned into a scream and then into laughter. It didn't sound like his voice anymore.  
  
The light faded and where Angel had knelt but moments before now stood the huge form of the Butcher Knight, grinning from ear to ear.  
  
"I love that song," the Knight announced and laughed again.  
  
Darla was clearly confused, but her smile had returned upon seeing her beloved Knight in the flesh again. She moved toward him.  
  
"Angelus! I missed you very much."  
  
She reached out to hug him, but was immediately discouraged by his lack of response. She looked up into his amber eyes and couldn't quite comprehend what she saw there.  
  
"What is going on here?" she asked. "Why did that fool free you on his own? Angelus, tell me!"  
  
For a long moment he just smiled down at her, making her fidget where she stood. She had seen that look a thousand times before, the only reason she needed so long to identify it was the fact that he had never looked at her that way.  
  
That look that told the object of his attention that she was already dead.  
  
"I am really sorry to tell you this, Darla," the Knight said in a voice that didn't hold much regret.  
  
Before Darla even had time to register those words the Knight lifted his blade. Only moments later the first of Darla's minions exploded into dust.  
  
"I got a better offer," the Knight grinned.  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	7. Part 7: The End

Where Angels Fear to Tread, p7  
  
###  
  
Buffy had seen the Butcher Knight several times now, once in real life, once in her dreams. Both of those times he had fought against her, or Elia, and she had been too busy with staying alive to really watch him.  
  
Now she could. And he was magnificent.  
  
Angelus was a weapon made flesh. Every inch of him was a killing machine, moving with the grace of a large cat, the long sword a part of his arm. He moved like a shadow, too fast to follow, and killed whatever came into his way.  
  
A dozen Vampires tried to overwhelm him and they all died in seconds, crumbling into dust in the path of the Knight's blazing sword. Buffy blinked and it was over. Only Darla and Angelus remained, the dust slowly settling around them.  
  
"Angelus," Darla screamed.  
  
"You rang?" He grinned at her, walking closer, playfully whirling his sword in one hand.  
  
"I conjured you forth from the darkness," she growled at him. "And now you betray me?"  
  
He shrugged.  
  
"What can I say? Comes a time a man has to go his own way. Don't take it personal, darling! I just felt it was time for a change."  
  
The ancient Vampire stood face to face with the Etrigani and stared at his cold eyes.  
  
"You made a deal with the Earl."  
  
"I would call it a business association myself, but whatever works for you. Suffice to say that he made me an offer I could not refuse."  
  
He slowly raised the sword and moved the tip of it over Darla's heart.  
  
"My part includes killing you, I'm afraid."  
  
Darla hissed and jumped him, something the Knight hadn't expected. The two tumbled to the floor in a flurry of arms and legs that carried them outside Buffy's field of vision. She heard the sounds of battle, but couldn't turn her head far enough to actually see it.  
  
"I made you," she heard Darla scream. "I can unmake you as well!"  
  
"Women and their empty promises," the Knight retorted and suddenly Darla was in Buffy's field of vision once more, flying halfway through the room and landing on the floor in a heap.  
  
Angelus slowly walked up to her, still smiling.  
  
"We had a nice time," he told her. "I will always remember you. Nicest piece of undead ass I ever met."  
  
Darla jumped to her feet to rush him again, but this time the Knight wouldn't be taken by surprise. Darla came to a crushing halt and looked down to see the Butcher Knight's huge sword firmly embedded between her breasts, the tip protruding out her back.  
  
"Angelus," she whispered.  
  
"Don't go sentimental on me now!"  
  
He pulled the sword out of her body in a shower of dark blood, then whirled around and took off Darla's head in the same motion. For a moment the headless body just stood there, frozen in shock, then time caught up with her.  
  
The sound of settling dust was the only sound to be heard inside the mansion for a long, long moment.  
  
"Angel?" Buffy whispered.  
  
Angelus turned his eyes upon her and smiled.  
  
"Not quite, deary. The good boy made a deal with me, can you believe it? A deal to save you."  
  
He laughed and raised the sword above his head. Buffy's heart stopped for a moment, convinced he would kill her now.  
  
The sword arced down and sheared clean through the chains that held her down.  
  
"Sorry!" He laughed again. "Couldn't resist that look on your face."  
  
He sheathed his sword and Buffy jumped to her feet, unconsciously taking a few steps back from the towering form of the Butcher Knight.  
  
"What happened here?" she asked him. "What kind of deal are you talking about?"  
  
The Knight shrugged.  
  
"I guess he can explain that better than me."  
  
He closed his eyes and a voice not his own burst forth from his lips.  
  
"Be gone Angelus, Butcher Knight Be banished back into the night The new day's dawn shall be your ban Return once more in form of man!"  
  
Buffy had to avert her eyes from the glare. When she looked back the Butcher Knight was gone and Angel stood in his place, looking at her.  
  
"Are you all right?" he asked her with deep worry in his voice.  
  
Right then Buffy didn't care whether she was Elia or not, whether her feelings for him were real or just memories of a former life. She launched herself into his arms and the two embraced each other with desperation, each needing the assurance that the other was alive and well.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity they let go and looked into each other's eyes, searching for answers.  
  
"What deal did you make with the Butcher Knight?" Buffy finally asked.  
  
Angel closed his eyes, sighing deeply.  
  
"Let's go to Giles first, beloved. I want to get out of this place."  
  
Buffy nodded, looking back at the dust on the floor. For Angel it was the end of a millennium of being haunted and stalked by this Vampire, the end of a flight that had lasted ten centuries.  
  
It was also a beginning, though. She just didn't know of what.  
  
###  
  
"A deal?" Buffy asked him.  
  
Angel just nodded.  
  
Giles looked at the two people sitting on his couch, lost to everything but each other. The situation these two were in bordered on the ridiculous, Giles realized. A 10th century Vampire Slayer, reborn as a 20th century Vampire Slayer, and a 10th century Irish Earl, who survived the centuries by being bonded to a demon, just returned home from fighting an over 1000 years old Vampire who had first called that demon into existence.  
  
"What kind of deal, Mr. Fitzpatrick?" Giles asked him.  
  
Angel blinked, as if just now remembering that Giles was present, then looked at the Watcher.  
  
"I knew that I had no chance of saving Elia ... Buffy from Darla on my own. So I looked up Angelus and offered him a deal. He would help me defeat Darla. In turn I would ..."  
  
Giles waited until Angel found the strength to continue.  
  
"I would give him freedom," Angel said finally. "One year out of every ten I would give him freedom."  
  
For a long moment both Giles and Buffy just stared at him.  
  
"Are you mad?" Buffy finally found her voice again. "You allow this thing freedom? He will start killing people as soon as you let him out and ..."  
  
"No, he won't," Angel interrupted her. "All part of the deal. I ... convinced Angelus that he has missed out on a lot over the centuries. That there is more than just killing to be enjoyed. It's part of the deal we made. When ... when he does kill it will only be those who deserve to die."  
  
"And who exactly decides who deserved to die?" Giles asked him, not happy with the way this deal was shaping up.  
  
"We both will, together. I know what you are thinking, Mr. Giles, but me and Angelus are one. One in body and, to a certain degree, one in mind. It's one of the few positive points of our relationship. None of us can lie to the other. Angelus was getting quite sick of being Darla's toy and is looking forward to some time of true freedom. He will keep his part of the bargain and he knows that I will, too."  
  
Giles shook his head, but knew that it was too late. For better or worse the deal was made and the Butcher Knight would roam the Earth one year out of every ten. He shuddered with the thought, even though he had never seen the monster in person.  
  
"Giles," Buffy said without turning toward her Watcher. "Could you leave us alone for a moment?"  
  
Again the two were looking only at each other and Giles didn't need any further encouragement.  
  
"How could you do this?" Buffy asked Angel when Giles was gone. "How could you bargain with this monster?"  
  
"How could I not?" he asked her back. "You are Elia, Buffy. The woman I love. Returned to me after a thousand years. I simply could not lose you again. I could not allow it."  
  
She saw the look in his dark eyes and knew that he spoke the truth. More than that, she remembered. Remembered the man he had been to her in a life not her own, yet still hers. She remembered being Elia now and knew that the man who had been her husband in that earlier life had, in fact, been completely unable to do this any other way.  
  
A tear rolled down her face. Angel's hand reached out to tilt her head up until she looked at him again, his thumb rubbing away the tear.  
  
"Don't cry, my love," he whispered to her. "I don't want to see you sad."  
  
She moved away from his touch and wrapped her arms around herself, more tears springing from her eyes.  
  
"I ... I don't know, Angel! I simply don't know how to react to all this. I just found out that I've lived once before. I remember large pieces of that life now. I remember loving you, but I'm still not sure how much of that is just memory and how much is true. And now this! You make a deal with the monster you've hated all your life to save me. What am I supposed to do now? Can you tell me that?"  
  
He looked down.  
  
"I can't tell you what to feel, Buffy. I can only tell you what I am feeling. I would have done everything to save you and to me it is worth the price to see you alive and well."  
  
She wanted nothing better than to just fall into his arms and be Elia, the woman he loved, the woman he needed. She was that woman, she knew that now, she just wasn't sure how much of her was that woman. Who was Buffy Summers then? What did she want?  
  
"I ... I think I need some time to figure this out, Angel," she finally told him. "I need to ... to find out where the boundary is between Elia and Buffy. Who I really am. What I want. I'm sorry, but ..."  
  
He nodded as words failed her, telling her without words that he understood. There was sadness in his eyes, but it seemed he had expected nothing else.  
  
"You will have time, Buffy. A year's worth of time, to be exact."  
  
"What?" Her eyes snapped back to him.  
  
"One year out of ten, Buffy," Angel said. "Starting tonight."  
  
She couldn't believe this. "You will leave? You will turn into Angelus tonight and stay gone for a year?"  
  
"It was the only bargain he would accept. I will leave tonight. A year from now I will be back and by then ... by then I hope you have found out who you are ... what you want. I'm sorry I can't be here to help you with that."  
  
He rose and reached for his coat and the gleaming sword of the Butcher Knight, which stood right next to the couch. Buffy was frozen for a second, then stood up and walked up to him.  
  
"I will be here," she told him. "I ... I can't promise you anything beyond that, Angel. Sorry, but I ..."  
  
"I understand," he just said, one hand softly caressing her cheek.  
  
She looked up at him through teary eyes and managed a smile.  
  
"Elia loves you, Angel," she told him. "Never doubt that! You are the most important thing in the world to her."  
  
He nodded and brushed the lightest of kisses on her lips. Without any conscious effort on her part Buffy's arms went around him, pressing him closer. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, she only knew that it hurt when they finally parted.  
  
"I will wait for you, my Angel," she told him.  
  
"And I will come back."  
  
Then he was gone.  
  
#  
  
"So much mushy stuff," Angelus complained.  
  
"It's what makes life worth living," Angel told him, "and maybe you will learn that someday."  
  
Angelus shook his head, a smile crossing his face. He was walking toward Sunnydale's bus station, seeing as Darla had wrecked Angel's car. The sword and a few other possessions were gathered in a bag and slung over his broad shoulders.  
  
"Where do we go?" the phantom voice of Angel asked inside his head.  
  
"You are the one who wanted to show me the fun sides of the world, remember? Mr. tour guide, that's you." He shrugged. "I guess out of this town first. Then maybe Disney Land. I've never been to Disney Land."  
  
"I haven't either," Angel said.  
  
"Okay, then Disney Land it is. And please stop brooding about your girlfriend, okay? Gives me a headache. You'll have her back in a year."  
  
"I hope this year passes quickly."  
  
"Oh, I think it will. Time always passes so quickly when you have fun. And I plan to have lots of fun, Earl, old buddy. Lots and lots of fun."  
  
The two men in one body continued to walk down the dark street and a slight chuckle escaped the now ill-named Butcher Knight's lips.  
  
"You know, Angel? This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."  
  
"As if!"  
  
THE END 


End file.
